Alternate Life
by staceycj
Summary: AU: What life could have been like for the Winchesters.
1. Chapter 1

"_**So let's kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell." The older of the two waggled his eyebrows and the younger huffed, annoyed that his brother was so cheerful, but grateful that he was still…**_

"Shit!" Dean Winchester exclaimed as he looked down at the clock on the bottom of his computer screen. He had promised his mom and dad that he would make it over tonight for dinner, Sam was there with his girlfriend, apparently a girl that was just perfect for his brother, and his mother would accept no excuse for his absence.

Pushing himself up from his chair, he eased his weight back onto his two feet, careful to not to put as much weight on his left side as he did on his left. He hissed as his leg protested its share of the weight. He took a deep breath to steady himself and forced himself to turn from the computer towards the other end of the house that housed his bedroom and therefore his clothes.

"One step at a time, that's what the doctor says." Dean reminded himself and forced himself to take that that initial step, the hardest step, and winced and almost fell. He steadied himself on the table next to the door, eyes shut so tightly that they were beginning to tear, and took another deep calming breath. He opened his eyes again, pulled the glasses up onto the top of his head and wiped the tears from them. Only a couple of more weeks with the stupid glasses then his eye would be healed enough and he could wear contacts at least that would be some form of normalcy. He took one more fortifying breath and began the arduous journey to the bedroom, step, drag, step, drag. He tried to do what the physical therapist said and use his knee, pick up his foot and try to step, but today that was just too hard. Tonight he would do extra exercises to make up for his laziness. But right now, he simply wanted to get to his room, change clothes, shave, and get to his mother's house on time. He had to prove to them that he really was different. So he began, an hour early, and prayed that he would make it six houses down on time.

Sam arrived at his mother's house on time and noted that Dean's car wasn't anywhere in the area.

"Figures he would be late." He mumbled and went to the other side of the car and escorted Anastasia out of her side of the car.

Just as he took her hand and led her towards the front door he heard Dean's car grumble to a stop on the other side of the street. It took Dean a few minutes to get himself out of the car. Sam refused to help him. Dean had gotten himself messed up all on his own, he could fix it all on his own. No way in the world was he helping that son of a bitch picking up a spoon, much less helping him get out of his own car and across the street.

"Come on Sam." Anastasia said as she watched Dean struggle to stand, and pulled Sam's arm. He turned away from a brother, a man that he had had the misfortune of growing up with, almost collapse under his own weight and went into the house and closed the door.

Dean watched the two of them enter the house, and his mind suddenly dazed and went back to his story of two brothers fighting evil and caring for each other. He tried to imagine Sam being right beside him fighting to keep him alive, and realized that even when he had been fighting for his life in the hospital Sam hadn't come immediately to see how he was, and only came to the hospital once and that was to berate him for being an ass and doing this to himself. In reality, he just simply hoped that Sam hadn't shut the heavy wooden door. It was hard pushing it open now and he didn't want to knock. It was embarrassing enough that it was going to take him forever to get across the street, he didn't want his parents to answer the door and find him in a heap on the floor, now that was an almost impossible position for him to get back up from. He fortified himself, and began his step, drag across the deserted street and to the house in which he had grown up.

"Mom?" Sam called from the door way. Mary Winchester trotted down the stairs fastening an earring to her left ear and smiled at her son and his girlfriend.

"Sam!" she said and went to her youngest son and hugged him tightly. "Anna!" she said and hugged her as well.

"Hey mom. You look beautiful." He said and smiled. She looked down at the simple skirt and blouse she was wearing and blushed.

"Your father likes this. I thought since it was our anniversary I should wear it. When your brother gets here, he's running late, we'll get ready to go."

"He's across the street." John Winchester said as he entered the entry to his home.

"What?"

"He's standing in the middle of the street trying to catch his breath."

"Sam. Why didn't you help him?" Mary asked her eyebrows creased.

"Mom." Sam said like the answer was obvious and he couldn't believe that his mother even asked. John moved past his younger son and headed outside to help his eldest up the drive.

"Sam. Just because you two had differences when you were little—"

"Mom. You can't tell me that you are proud of him."

"Sam."

"You can't. He's never amounted to anything. And if it hadn't been for the accident he'd still be hanging with those guys and would be-"

"Sam." Mary tried again.

"You told me so yourself mom, after the accident. You know it as well I do. I'm just the only one with the guts to let him struggle by himself. If he thinks he's so tough, he can walk across that street by himself. Dad helping him only lets him think that he can keep screwing up and we'll keep helping him out of his messes."

Mary's response was interrupted by John holding open the door for their eldest son who looked thoroughly humbled and embarrassed. He looked at his mother and smiled. "I'm sorry I was late. I…" he looked at his brother and his beautiful girlfriend and decided against saying that he fell while putting his shirt on. "had a hard time getting ready today. I promise it won't happen again." He turned to Sam and Anastasia and repeated the apology to the two of them. Sam didn't acknowledge disgusted with his supposed big brother.

A/N: I know I have a couple going. I'm working on all of them. This idea just bugged me for three days and I had to get it out. Also, Sam is not dating Jessica because I could not bring myself to destroy her character. I hope you enjoy this!


	2. Dinner

The excursion to the restaurant hadn't been too strenuous and Dean had managed to not embarrass himself by needing to hold onto his father's arm while he walked inside. As soon as they sat down the two couples began talking and Dean simply watched. Sam talked about cases that he was trying and Anastasia talked about the charity work she and her mother were doing, her father was one of the senators of Kansas so if nothing else she and her mother had to keep up appearances, and Mary and John discussed the latest at the shop and the school in which Mary worked. Dean didn't have anything to contribute, his days consisted of doing paperwork for his father, he couldn't work under a car until his leg healed more and he was more mobile, and the rest of his day consisted of PT and working on that book that he was simply going to finish and file and never worry about again.

Food came and Dean ate, keeping in mind the etiquette tips he had read online. It had been such a long time since he had actually participated in a family function, a dinner, like real people, that he had been afraid that he had forgotten how to be civilized, and he didn't want to embarrass himself, cause his mother to be any more disappointed in him than she already was, or garner any more of Sam's disgust.

So, Dean ate in silence as Annastasia and his mother discussed wedding plans, and Sam and their dad discussed the house that Sam was having built for his bride to be. He looked up and watched and listened and realized that he had missed a lot in the last couple of years, being caught up in his own selfishness. These four functioned like a real family, this was what real families discussed.

His mother had insisted that he come over once a week for dinner, she wanted to make sure that Dean was eating properly at least one meal a week, and when they all sat together, there wasn't much to say, sure his mother asked him how he was, if he was going to PT, if he was doing what they told him to do, and made sure that he was clean. John nor Mary ever tried to really engage their eldest in conversation, and for the first time, he realized that there wasn't anything to say. He was a stranger that shared a common DNA. They had to love him but they didn't have to like him. When he realized that, he put his fork down, suddenly food didn't taste so good, and he wasn't hungry anymore.

Instead he tried to pay more attention to the conversations being had and realized that he needed to spend some serious time on the internet learning about the news, politics, and get a hobby, preferably something his mom and dad were both interested in. He briefly contemplated finding a girlfriend, but when the waitress came back offering to fill their glasses, he noted the look of disgust and horror that passed through her eyes when she looked at his ruined face. Sam had always said he needed to pay for how he treated others and Sam finally was getting his wish. There would be no girlfriend in his future, no wife, no kids, and now that seemed really important and he was only just beginning to mourn the loss of those possibilities.

"Dean?" his mother asked gently and put a hand on his good leg. He startled a little and looked over to his mom who had worry in her big blue eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you hungry?" She nodded indicating the plate that had a half eaten meal on it.

"I'm good mom. I'm fine." He reassured softly and picked his fork up again, intent on making it look like he was still trying to eat. His mother let it go, but kept watch over her eldest.

"I asked Miles to be my best man." Sam said a little more loudly than he intended. Dean felt his eyes burn, and his cheeks drain of all color. He cleared his throat.

"That the guy you roomed with at school?" he asked casually.

"Yeah. He and I are like brothers." Dean caught the implication and he really couldn't blame his brother, but it still didn't hurt any less.

John and Mary were both in a state of shock. Sam had been angry with Dean for a number of years but he had never been this out and out mean to him. To Mary, it seemed, that since Dean's accident, since he couldn't defend himself anymore, that Sam took advantage, that Sam pounced on him because he enjoyed the hurt it put in his brother's eyes.

Once, not too long after the accident and Sam had said something particularly rude, she had made a comment, and he had said, "well now he can know what it feels like to be hurt all of the time." She had been flabbergasted. She didn't think she had raised a son that was mean, and willing to hit someone while they were down. It was true that Dean and Sam had never gotten along, Dean being too willful and his total lack of respect for authority had clashed badly with Sam's diligence to the rules and need to conform, Sam had never actually been hateful to his brother, no matter what horrible thing Dean had done in his selfishness. She sometimes wondered if it was the company Sam kept. She wondered if Anastasia was really and truly such good thing for her son.

John looked at Mary and she indicated with a look, that only someone married to another for over 25 years would recognize, and looked at Dean, who was pushing food around on his plate. He watched surreptitiously as they talked and noted that Dean paid close attention to the conversation but said nothing, had nothing to contribute.

"How was PT today son?" John asked trying to draw Dean into the conversation. Dean looked over confused and a quick glance at Sam said that he was not happy to be talking about this.

"It was fine Dad. I went." John's shoulders sagged. Dean thought that the question was only intended to verify that he went. He looked back to his wife who looked just as sad as he did, and they turned the conversation back to Sam and Anna and both noted just how intently Dean watched and listened to the conversation.

They arrived back at the house later than expected and Dean got out of the car with a little help from his dad, he was stiff after sitting for so long, and he smiled to his parents and brother and said, "I'll catch you guys later." And dug in his pocket for the keys to the junk he was driving until he could get his car untwisted and untotaled. He turned and started to limp his way back to the car.

"Aren't you going to come in for a little while Dean?" Mary asked.

"No. No. I'm not. Mike called and told me that I have to be in the shop early tomorrow. I'm supposed to call some junk yards and look for some parts for that Mustang that we got in today. Wanna make sure I do a good job." Mary's shoulders sank. "Good night Mom. See you tomorrow Dad." He nodded towards his brother. "Sam. Pleasure to see you again Anastasia." He turned and left them, slowly, steadily and painfully to his car. Sam didn't even watch, he guided his fiancé into the house and his father took his mother's hand and watched their eldest as he put his head against the steering wheel once inside the car and breathe heavily from the effort of walking the short distance.

John squeezed Mary's hand, kissed the top of her blonde head and whispered, "He'll be okay."

_**The wayward brothers sat at the table in the motel room that was littered with books on the occult. Simon looked up from the laptop to his older brother and cringed at the food that was falling out of his mouth as he read and ate. "David." He said huffily. David looked up and smiled, food dribbling down his shirt. "You are so gross."**_

"_**And you are such a girl. What is your point?" Simon rolled his eyes. **_

"_**This poltergeist…." **_

His alarm rang eleven pm and he saved his file and shut his computer down. He wished that he could stay in this world he created. It was filled with love and family. It felt so real to him. Since his accident, his world with David and Simon Colt was more real than his own world in which his brother hated him and his parents didn't know what to do for him. Tonight, he felt ostracized, and very much the outsider in his family. It didn't seem to matter in Simon and David's world that they were ostracized from the world, they had each other, they had their family, and that was what truly mattered.


	3. Singer Salvage

A/N: I wanted to appologize for not updating sooner, I live in Ohio and I was one of those without power for 4 days. Hope you enjoy

* * *

Beeep. Beep. Beep. Green eyes fluttered open and he turned to face the clock on the nightstand. 5 AM. Well at least he thought so, that was what he had set it for, but with his one bad eye things were hard to focus on without his glasses. He grabbed his glasses and turned off his alarm and sighed. He looked at the dark ceiling and screwed up his courage and determination and began the arduous process of getting his body up and out of his bed. Sometimes he mourned the times where he could just roll out of bed take a shower and be out the door in two minutes. He took so many things for granted back then. Took his family, his friends, his opportunities, his body….his life for granted and as he pulled his bad leg up and pain flared to life, pain that would ach all day, he once again reminded himself that he deserved everything he had to endure. He had made his choices, choices that he knew could end this way, and he had to live with that. This was his life now, and this life was much more difficult.

Once up, and already sweating from the exertion of rising, he forced himself to do the exercises he was told to do every single day, and that would only help him to achieve 75 percent of his mobility. But that was more than he had right now, and right this very second, beggars couldn't be choosers. He was just lucky that they hadn't taken the leg after the accident. He was lucky that he was alive. Dean held onto that thought as he took a shower in his handicap accessible shower, ate breakfast holding onto the counter, because it would take to much time to sit down and get back up, and making it to his car after twenty minutes of stop and start walking.

He did, however, make it to work on time. He was still trying to earn his dad and Mike's trust. They had given him this job when no other place in town would hire him, because who wants a mechanic who can't get his head under a hood of a car without falling down? Who wants an ex-drug addict behind the cash register? But, Mike and his dad, they gave him one, they were willing to give him a second chance and he was most grateful.

Dean knew that they really shouldn't have. Before his accident, he had taken several hundred dollars out of the till to settle a score with a dealer. Shame still colored his face when he thought about that time, a time when he was so desperate for his next fix that he was willing to take from his father and family friend. In some ways the accident had been a blessing; it taught him what was really important and it got him clean. He didn't begrudge his father or Mike when they made him take random drug tests. To Dean, it seemed only fair. So every day, no matter how horrible he was feeling he would get to work, on time, as a way of proving himself, of giving the two men a reason to trust him again. He refused to let them down, refused to disappoint, refused to give them a reason to look at him the way his baby brother did.

Dean took his place behind the counter a little after eight, and opened the book in which they kept the list of all of the salvage yards and parts dealers that the Lawrence Auto Repair did business with. By nine he was out of places in Kansas and he started looking outside of the state. By the time his dad and Mike came in he was frustrated and tired. No one seemed to have the part he needed.

The last on the list, was a salvage yard out in South Dakota. He sighed and dialed.

"Singer Salvage."

"May I speak with Mr. Singer please?"

"This is Bobby Singer."

"Hi. I'm Dean Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas calling from Lawrence Auto Shop and…" Bobby Singer really didn't hear most of what the kid said. The moment he heard the name Dean Winchester something went off in his head. It was the same feeling he got when he knew someone's face but didn't recall their name or anything else about them. Where had he heard that name before? It wasn't because his last name was that of a rifle.

The talking stopped and Bobby realized that he missed what the kid was asking for, he asked for clarification and he received it. Bobby did have the part in question and he hung up after the price and mode of transportation was settled. When he hung up the phone, that feeling grew stronger, and he worried that maybe it was something dangerous, it sure felt dangerous.

Dean hung up the phone softly. There was something about Bobby Singer that made his bones ach. He felt like he knew the man, felt like he could just have called and said "Hey Bobby it's me" and they would have talked for ages. Dean shook his head. The accident had definitely done something to his head. The doctors claimed that there had been no brain damage, despite the mangling that his face had received. Sometimes, like today for instance, he didn't believe them.

After the accident he had gone to a shrink, and she said to write down what he felt. Write down how the accident had affected his life, write about his child hood, anything as long as it was about him. Well, he tried that. Started writing about his life. He got two sentences before he started writing about the demon hunting brothers David and Simon Colt. He stopped seeing the shrink, he couldn't force himself to show her the writings (that had been a required part of the whole writing thing). For some reason, the lives of the brothers seemed too personal, too secret to share with someone like a shrink.

But after he started writing of their lives, he realized that their world was feeling more real than his world. That was when he stopped writing for a while. But he missed the world so much that he went back to it, but this time he put restrictions on himself. It was his reward for a day well done. For some reason, Bobby Singer felt like he belonged more to the Colt's world than to his own.

He shook himself out of the funk when he heard the bell tingle above the door. He pushed himself out of his chair and slowly exited the office and he found his little brother standing at the door waiting.

"Hey Sam." Dean tried. Sam's hazel eyes slid to Dean's face and looked pissed.

"Where's dad?" He asked tersely, Dean sighed inwardly. He wondered what exactly he would have to do to earn some of his brother's respect back. It would definitely take more effort and time to earn any good feelings from his brother, but damn how much more?

"Working on that Intrigue in the last bay." Sam strode confidently and tall towards the father and Dean felt the tingle of jealousy burn in his stomach and he quickly quashed it. He had no right to feel that anymore. He had had his chance, he blew it. No use in feeing jealous now. Dean labored back into the office and just as he sat down he heard his brother and father talking.

"Sure Sam let me go get cleaned up in the back. I'll get Dean."

"Why?"

"Why what Sam?"

"Why are you gonna get Dean?"

"So he can go with us."

"I don't want him to go."

"Sam he's your brother."

"I don't care if he's the president. I don't want him to come."

"Sam."

"Look, Dad. I want to spend time with you. Just you. I don't want to have to pussy foot around topics because Dean is in the room."

"You didn't pussy foot around last night." John said in reference to the announcement regarding Sam's best man.

"Yeah, like he would be shocked to know that I don't want him in my wedding. I'm only inviting him because you and mom would have a fit if I didn't."

"What happened to you Sam?" John asked after a beat.

"What?" Sam asked taken aback.

"You used to be kind."

"I haven't changed Dad."

"The way you treat your brother."

"Is no different than how he treated me my whole life." And that, Dean realized, was the truth.


	4. Trust

"_**David, trust me. I know what I'm doing. Please. Let me do this one on my own." David starred into his brother's intense eyes, searching for confidence. He found it. Trusting Simon was never an issue. He trusted Simon with his life, he had for years now, and nothing was ever going to change that, there was nothing that could break that bond.**_

"_**I do trust you Simon. I just don't like the idea of you being there alone."**_

"_**You taught me everything I know about hunting. Don't you trust your training?" Simon was taunting him and he knew it. He sighed, frustrated, there was no way he was going to win this argument.**_

"_**Fine. Go ahead. Just keep your phone on. I want to hear what goes down, just in case you need help." Simon smiled.**_

"_**I can handle myself big brother."**_

"_**Keep your damn phone on."**_

"_**Yes, yes, yes."**_

Dean sat back in his computer chair and sighed. Trust was something that wasn't easy to come by. Once it was gone, it was like trying to climb Mount Everest in a wheel chair to get it back. He had destroyed that trust with his brother, his parents, and even his extended family. Since Sam came back, even if it only was for another couple of days, he seemed to act as a highlighter and mark up the pages of Dean's book with annoyingly happy yellow showing him all of the holes he still had in his life and in his relationships with the people he loved the most, who he had also hurt the most.

Before Sam and his father had quit arguing about whether or not it was appropriate to invite Dean to lunch, Dean came out of the office and told his father to go with Sam, that he didn't get to see Sam that often and that he needed to spend some alone time with his youngest. John asked if he was sure, Dean had assured him it was fine, even though it hurt.

On one hand Dean was upset because it had been so easy for his father to accept Dean's statement because it made it seem like the argument with Sam was all for show, to make it look like he didn't agree with Sam treating him like shit, and on the other hand Dean felt as if it was deserved. His father spent every single day with him, was constantly on watch and it would be nice for him to spend some time with Sam. John had to feel like he spent the majority of his time babysitting a 27 year old child, so it would be good for him to have an adult conversation with his son, something that didn't revolve round physical therapy, the shop, or eating habits. John had gone to lunch and not returned to the shop the rest of the day.

What had to be the entire highlight of the week, and the one that made him think about how hard it was for people to trust you again, was the dinner he was sort of forced to go to. Their grandma Winchester wanted to see Sam and Anna. Wanted to see just how the star of the family was doing, and Mary had actually come over and laid out clothes and forced him up and into them. The humiliation of holding onto your mother's shoulders while she helped you into your pants never abated no matter how often she did it. However, it did make dressing infinitely easier and for that he was grateful.

"Mom. Sam doesn't want me there."

"But your grandmother will be there."

"She doesn't want me there either mom. I'm fine really." He said as she steadied him and he zipped and buttoned his pants.

"Dean, you need to eat."

"I have a salad in the refrigerator from lunch I didn't finish, and I can fix a sandwich."

"Dean. That isn't a meal. You need to eat more."

"The sandwich." He tried.

"You are coming Dean."

"Mom." She gave him sad eyes. The same look she had given him most every day since his accident, hell she had probably been giving him the same look for years, and he just hadn't seen it before now.

"I want you there Dean. You are my son." _But I am a disappointment and a screw up mom. You can't really want me there._ He thought to himself and sat on the bed and tied his shoes.

His mother, like always, won the argument and he went and had supper with his family. The dinner started with Sam looking none too happy to see Dean there. Dean nodded and said hello to Sam. He wanted to repair or hell even start a relationship with his brother. He wished that he could have the same relationship that his fictional brothers had with each other. He wanted a bond that was tight but left them room to be individuals, he wanted to be able to sit and have a beer with his brother and shoot the shit. But looking into Sam's eyes he knew that wasn't even a possibility right now. Knew in his bones that no matter what he said his brother would throw it back in an insulting and condescending tone. So, instead, he keep the door on his end open, smiled and said hello, and hoped with all of his heart that he could fix things.

Grandma Winchester really didn't speak to Dean the entire night. He couldn't blame her. When he was at the height of his addiction he had broken into her house and stole all of the money she had in the house. The memory embarrassed him now, but then, well, he had needed that fix, his body was going through withdraw and he didn't know how else to get it. She had called the cops, they had picked him up, thrown him in jail, and his grandma had pressed charges. He had spent some time in jail for that one. He had said some awful things to her when they had arrested him. Things that he wished he could take back, wished he knew how to take back.

Sam and Anna dominated the conversation, which was fine with Dean, he didn't know what to say to anyone anymore. He couldn't force himself to look his grandmother in the eye, couldn't look at anyone, the memories were hitting him so hard.

"Excuse me." he said softly to his mother trying not to interrupt the conversation. He struggled out of his seat, his grandmother watching disapprovingly, and with one hand against the wall he walked to the bathroom. What was hard was when he was making his way back and he could hear the conversation, the conversation that had turned from Sam's current load of cases to Dean.

"What is taking him so long Johnny?"

"It is hard for him to walk."

"Your purse is in the kitchen right grandma?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I didn't bring any money or credit cards. He isn't going to do that to me again."

"Mom." John started. "He's really trying to clean up his life."

"He's tried that numerous times baby. What makes you so sure that he will do it this time?"

"I just know he will."

"Why? Because he has scars all over his face and can't walk right? Please baby, don't let him make a fool out of you again. I still can't believe that you are letting him work at the garage again, even after stealing from you and your partner."

"He needed a job."

"So do a lot of other thugs."

"My son is not a thug." Mary said incredulously.

"Mary, dear, Dean is a lost soul. You just need to let him go."

"I tell them that all of the time Grandma." Sam said with a sigh. "They simply just don't listen. They actually think that he is going to change. That he will become the son they wanted him to be." Dean didn't hear anymore, he left. It had been a bad idea to come.

Now, here he was, wishing again that he was David and that Sam was Simon, fighting supernatural baddies, while ignoring his cell phone and the house phone that rang in intervals. His mother would come eventually. She wouldn't be able to get in. The spare key in the plant was now sitting next to his computer, she could come all she wanted. She wasn't getting in. Right now he needed time to be alone. Needed time to figure out ways of getting his loved ones to trust him again.


	5. Sam Was Right

Sam had been sent on a mission of mercy by his mother. Upset was putting it mildly as to how she was reacting since Dean refused to answer her calls and answer his door. He had called while she was at school long enough to apologize that he wasn't going to make it to dinner that night. Apparently it was the night Dean usually came over and had supper with Mary and John. Sam completely didn't understand what the deal was. Why would she be angry that she didn't have to talk about physical therapy, or make sure her valuables were put away, or look at his face. His face alone made Sam want to cringe and walk away. His brother had screwed so much up in his life. Sam had no idea why his parents even tried.

Sam knocked on the door and there was no answer. He sighed and looked for the key that his mother said was in the pot beside the door, it wasn't there. So, Sam went around to the back of the house, unlocked the gate, was greeted by Dean's ancient boxer, and went through the back door. Dean never locked the door when his dog was outside.

The sliding glass door opening caught Dean's attention, scared him until he saw that it was Sam stepping through. Ty, his boxer, came in as well and demanded a little petting from his master.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"Mom sent me. She was mad that you didn't answer your phone."

"I called and told her I wouldn't be there."

"Whatever. You called when you knew she wasn't home. That is a cowards way out."

"Mom can be very stubborn about things."

"Tell me about it. She is still sure that you can be saved."

"I am trying Sam."

"Too little too late Dean. You should have tried years ago."

"I messed up…"

"No shit you messed up. You always think that it is just so easy. Just apologize and everything will be okay. Use people up and leave them high and dry when they need you most and then just apologize, just use that charming Dean Winchester smile…" Sam stopped and smiled. "Oh that's right. You don't have that charming smile anymore. You know what?" Sam asked as he stepped closer to the computer chair in which Dean was sitting. Sam had long since abandoned the meal he had been sent to deliver and was encroaching on Dean's personal space.

"You know what Dean? I'm so glad that your face was screwed up. Now you can't sucker any poor innocent girl into sleeping with you anymore." Sam smiled. "Your son was over at Mom's house yesterday. He is such a great kid. His mom is doing a great job with him. It's no thanks to you."

"She won't let me see him. She said that right now I'll scare Adam."

"You scared me long before your face was messed up." Dean nodded.

"I try to take care of him." Dean said softly.

"Oh, now you send her child support? What? Did Dad tell you that he didn't want to have to pay for your child anymore? Did he finally get sick and tired of financially supporting a family that you created without even thinking and abandoned just as easily."

"Sam. I really am trying. Kelly says that if I stay sober, I can see Adam by Christmas. She said that I can spend it with them. I'm really trying Sam." Dean felt like crying. Adam and Kelly were a sore subject with him.

"Sure now you are. That epiphany called a tree you wrapped your car around really did the trick. You can't tell me that if you hadn't almost died that you would give a damn about having a relationship with me, mom, dad, your son, or Kelly. The only relationship that you would have and care about would be the one you had with a needle." Dean nodded. Sam was right. There were two options for him before the tree, death or more drugs. He knew that he wouldn't care if it hadn't happened. But it had and he had changed. Dean really wanted to have those relationships now. He didn't want to be dead. "You make me sick." Sam said finally. He turned from his brother.

"The food." He pointed to the counter. "Make sure you give mom her dishes back washed." He said and left the way he came. Dean looked down at his dog who was sleeping at his feet and sighed. Sam was right. Sam was always right.


	6. Sad and Broken

Dean did return the dish to his mother once Sam went back to Topeka. He lumbered his way to the house, his physical therapist suggested that he start walking more and he swallowed his pride and accepted the cane he was given, and he walked the six houses down the street to his parent's house carrying the dish that had held the superb meal that his mother had made.

He knocked and then entered the house. "Mom!" He called. His father was still at the shop, he had left him there a little over an hour ago.

"I'm in the kitchen!" she yelled back. Dean made his way into the kitchen, carrying the dish in one hand and using his cane with the other. When Mary saw the cane she blinked back tears. Her baby boy had to use a cane to get around. For weeks she had helped him walk, held his hand walked with him to his house, she had helped him get dressed, she had seen the red scars, the staples holding his skin together. Each thing had broken her heart just a little bit, but seeing her son walking like an old man with a standard shiny silvery cane in one hand about finished the job.

"Hey sweetie." She managed without sounding distressed.

"I brought your dish back. It was very good. Thank you."

"I would have liked it better if you had come over on the night you usually do and had supper with us." She said and cut the onion she had on the cutting board.

Dean shrugged and sat down at the kitchen table, turned so he could watch his mother prepare supper for his father. "It doesn't really matter Mom." He said thinking about the years he had missed out on family suppers, and he found himself wondering why exactly it mattered now that he missed one.

"The whole family was there."

"The whole family didn't want me there."

"Dean."

"Mom. Come on. Sam was.." Dean swallowed and refused to finish the sentence. He would not put Sam down to make his point. Dean had done enough horrible things to Sam and Dean deserved everything that Sam threw at him. "Never mind." He sighed.

"Then I want you to stay for supper tonight."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean, come on, mom. It doesn't matter if I'm here or not. Sam was right. Sam was right about a lot of things actually."

"Dean, Sam's just angry."

"And he has every right to be. I treated him pretty bad. I deserve everything he dishes out."

"Now that isn't true Dean."

"Yes it is Mom. I took time away from you and dad, I screwed up his graduation, I screwed up just about everything that was important to him growing up. I deserve everything that has happened to me."

"Dean, you do not deserve to be almost crippled." The moment the word crippled came out of her mouth she shut it and closed her eyes. She didn't mean it that way.

"But it happened," Dean shrugged. "I made my bed and now I have to lie in it." She sighed and went back to dinner preparations unable to figure out what to say to her son. He didn't deserve this, he had made mistakes, but he didn't deserve the life he has now.

"You will stay for dinner though?" She asked quietly.

"I can." He said relenting to his mother's tone. He starred hard at the table, he wanted to ask the question, he needed to know the answer, he had spent so much time being a coward in the last several years, he promised himself that he wouldn't do that any longer. "Sam said that Adam was over the other day." He blurted.

"He was. Kelly brought him over to see Sam and Anna."

Dean cleared his throat. "So he's okay?"

"He's good. He just got his school pictures back. I got the 8x10 in the living room. Didn't Kelly send you one?"

Dean puckered his lips and shook his head, "Nope. The dead beat ex drug addict father doesn't get school pictures." He said a little hotly. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way, he didn't really deserve to have any relationship with his son. The son that he had abandoned, had loved less than the high the needle gave him.

Screwing up with Kelly was one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made. She was the only woman he had loved and she gave him a son, a beautiful baby boy. But he threw that away, abandoned her, loved his drugs more than the mother of his child, more than the child. The best thing Kelly ever did for their son was kick Dean out of the house they had been sharing. So, really, truly, Dean knew that he had no right to be angry that his parents got to see their grandchild and get his school pictures. Dean was simply lucky that Kelly was even going to allow him to see his son this Christmas. Dean had already started buying gifts in anticipation of seeing his son.

"Dean. I'm sure Kelly is going to mail one to you."

"Nah. No big deal. Not really." He smiled stiffly. "I think I will go home. I'm not that hungry after all Mom. Thanks for the invitation."

"Dean. Stay. Your dad said that you didn't eat much at lunch, said you only had soup." Dean closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"What? Do you and Dad discuss every last morsel of food that passes my lips? I'm simply not hungry. I can't help it. Nothing sounds good, tastes good, smells good, I'm just not hungry."

"Dean you have to eat."

"I do eat. I swear I eat." He said exasperatedly. "Right now, I'm just gonna go home, waller in some self pity and go to bed. I'll be over on my normal day to have supper with you and dad." He stood and went to his mother and kissed her cheek. "I love you Mom."

"I love you too. I'll call you tomorrow." She nodded and smiled tightly at her son as he made his way out of the house. The door clicked softly closed and Mary dropped the knife and put her hands to her face and cried. Her baby was so sad and so broken, and there was nothing she could do to help him.


	7. Price

"Grandma Mary?" Adam asked as he colored at the kitchen table. Mary smiled. She enjoyed Friday nights. Kelly worked the late shift at the hospital and she left Adam over night. Mary liked having a child around the house, and lately, it made her feel closer to Dean.

"Yes baby?"

"When is Uncle Sammy coming back?"

"I don't know. Around Thanksgiving probably."

"When is that?"

"Another month. After Halloween."

"Oh." The boy sounded sad.

"Why?"

"I had fun with him when he was here."

"I'm glad you had fun spending time with him." She turned on the faucet and rinsed the dish she washed.

"Is it true that when boys grow up they are just like their daddies?" He asked as he continued to color.

"Not always. Why?"

"Kyle at school said that he was going to be just like his dad when he grew up, that boys were supposed to. And Uncle Sammy said that my daddy was a bad man. I don't want to grow up to be a bad man. You think I could grow up to be like Uncle Sammy? He's smart and big and strong. I want to be like that when I grow up. I don't want to be like my daddy. He's a looser. Uncle Sammy said so." Mary's heart sped up during the conversation, and she was so angry by the last utterance of her grandson that red colored her vision. Adam was looking at her expecting an answer. She swallowed hard and tried to compose herself and give the child an answer that didn't sound angry. She wasn't mad at Adam, he hadn't done anything, he was six years old, he didn't know his father, and he was only repeating what he heard. However, that didn't stop her from being royally pissed at her youngest son. He had no right to say those things about Dean. Sure, Dean had made plenty of mistakes, more than his fair share actually, but he was still family, and family was what was important. Helping those that love you through hard times was part of that deal.

She swallowed hard again and forced a smile. She came over to the boy, picked him up and sat in the chair that he had been occupying and hugged him close to her chest. "Your daddy is not a bad man. Your Uncle Sam shouldn't have said that to you. It isn't true."

"Then why did he say it? Mommy says lying is a bad thing."

"He said it because he is mad at your daddy. He's mad for a lot of reasons, and when people are angry, they say things that they don't really mean, they aren't lying exactly…" she tried to find the words. "Your daddy is a good person sweetie. He really is. He loves you very much."

"Then why don't I see him?"

"Because he has to get himself straightened out before he can see you."

"Is he all bent up and crooked?" Adam asked his expression tangled up and confused.

"Not exactly." She laughed. "But he went through a bad time and he is trying to get better."

"Is he sick?"

"He was very sick for a long time. He's getting better now."

"Is it like a cold? Like the one Tommy gave me this year. I wish he would have kept it. It was bad."

"Sort of. But your mommy wants your daddy to be completely okay before he comes and sees you."

"He doesn't want to get me sick?"

"No." He nodded. "Why don't you run upstairs and get your pjs on."

"But grandpa is coming back with ice cream."

"I know. But it is more fun to eat ice cream in your pajamas." The boy was barely up the stairs before Mary had the phone off of its cradle and dialing the Topeka number that would get Sam.

"Hello?"

"Samuel Winchester! I am so angry with you right now!"

"Whoah. Wait. Mom. What did I do?"

"How dare you say that your brother was a bad man to his son? How dare you?" Her voice was a growl by the time she reached the second question.

"Well," she could almost hear her youngest shrug. "Mom, he is a bad man. I just thought that Adam should be prepared for that."

"Sam. Your brother is not a bad man. Misguided and troubled yes. But he is not a bad man. And you have no business telling Adam that he is. That is his father."

"But…"

"I don't want to hear your _reasoning_ Sam. I don't really care." She looked to see if she could see the young boy coming down the stairs. "I know your brother has made some very bad decisions, hurt you, hurt me, hurt your father, his family, and himself. I know that. No one knows that more than I do. But damnit Samuel. You do not poison Adam with that garbage. He will know Dean as he is now. And Dean is doing his best to be a good man. You have no right to take that opportunity away from him. I am so ashamed of you right now."

"Mom…I…"

"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry. You need to apologize to your nephew and your brother. I thought I raised you better than this." Sam was silent on the other end of the phone. "You WILL call your nephew this week and set this straight. You WILL call your brother and apologize for your abominable behavior while you were here. This is not going to be tolerated Sam."

"You always take his side you know."

"What?"

"Dean makes an ass out of himself, hurts himself, hurts us, hurts Kelly and Adam, and you are just like 'oh, Dean's working on it.' When will he not be working on it anymore Mom? When will he be a real man and own up to his mistakes? When do you think that will come?"

"If you actually spent time here Sam, you would know a lot of those answers. Your brother has been doing everything in the world possible to earn the trust of others again. He has apologized profusely to me and your father. He is paying your dad back for all of the stuff that your father had to pay because of him, he is paying his own child support, he and Kelly have reached some kind of agreement. All of those things have been done. But you wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise while you were here. I think he wanted to apologize to you the most. But you were so busy being perfect and treating him like an insect that you didn't get to hear the apology or even learn who your brother is now. I am so disappointed in you Sam. You will make those corrections. I will talk to you later. I love you. Good night." She hung up the phone just as Adam was coming down the stairs in his Batman pajamas.

"Well aren't those cute." She said and went to the little boy and hugged him she felt tears prick her eyes. Batman had always been Dean's favorite superhero. She pulled the little one back and pushed gold hair out of her grandson's green eyes that were so much like Dean's that it hurt her to look sometimes.

"Why are you crying grandma?"

"I just love you so much."

"You are so weird." Mary laughed and hugged him closer. The garage door opened, John was home with the ice cream. She took a deep breath and stood up.

"You ready for some ice cream?" The six year old took off running. He wanted his ice cream. Mary rubbed at her heart. Dean was sitting six houses down, not allowed to come over and see his child, and he was in pain, and sad. And here she was feeding his son ice cream, putting him in his pajamas, and watching him grow up. Dean deserved punishment for his actions, and Mary felt that he had finished paying the price long ago, but people like Sam, she was afraid, were going to make him pay for the rest of his life.


	8. Two Hundred Dollars

Kelly went straight home to change and get a shower before she went to pick up Adam. It had been a stressful night at the hospital. A child died on her floor, and that was always hard for her. Every child that came through hurt and mangled looked like Adam to her, and the parents who were always torn with grief and worry made her think of what she would look like if someone hurt or took away her child.

So, when she finally got out of work, she couldn't go straight to the Winchester home and pick up Adam, because she wouldn't be able to wipe the sadness out of her eyes, and keep the tears from falling when she saw her baby happy, healthy and safe with his grandparents. She tided up the house, made sure that Adam's toys were put away, checked the mail, got it out, and opened it, paid the bills and left her child support statement for last. When she opened it, she found that there was two hundred dollars more than was required of Dean to pay. This was the second time in two months that there had been more money added into the payment. She called last time and they said that it wasn't an error, that it was initiated by Dean, that he had requested the additional money be taken from his check.

She let it slide that time. Figured that Dean still owed some back payment or something and left it at that. But when the next check came and it was the normal amount, and then the next check was the same, she figured it was nothing, just a fluke. But this time, she was beginning to wonder.

She headed for Mary's house but her car found its way to Dean's driveway. She took a deep breath and starred at the house and contemplated why exactly she was in the driveway. She hadn't seen Dean in almost a year. She knew that he had had a massive accident and that he was a wreck physically, but she hadn't seen the scars that Mary had described to her. Hadn't watched the tall beautiful man limp and drag his leg around. She figured that since she was doing everything she could to keep Dean out of Adam's life, that she wouldn't' have to see it, wouldn't have to face Dean and his injuries. She sighed and decided that she would just go up there, get it over with and get the answers she needed.

It took more courage than she thought it would to get out of the car, go up the drive, and knock on the door, but she did it, she didn't hesitate or even flinch, she simply did it.

"Come on in." She heard Dean call from inside. Opening the door, she stepped in the foyer. The last time she had been in the house, there had been practically no furniture, the house had been a mess and it had smelled, smelled so bad one had to pull their shirt up around their noses just to breathe and not gag. The worst part however was seeing Dean sprawled out on the couch, strung out on whatever drug he had managed to scare. She half expected to see that when she entered. But this time, the house was clean, there was furniture in the living room that she could see just beyond the entrance, it wasn't new, it wasn't the best, but it was clean and looked comfortable. She saw Dean sitting with his back to the door typing on his computer. From the back he didn't look any different than he had the last time she saw him. However, the cane perched next to him propped against the computer desk, made her stomach flutter with nervousness. "I'm fine, Mom." He said automatically. "I ate breakfast, I have group therapy at noon, I'll get there on time." He said and continued to type away at his computer.

"Dean?" she called tentatively. The typing ceased. His back went rigid.

"Kelly?" he questioned and didn't turn around.

"Yeah, it's me Dean."

"Is Adam okay?" he asked quietly. He couldn't think of any other reason she would be here other than to tell him that their son was either missing or hurt terribly.

"Adam is fine. He's still with you mom. I just need to talk to you for a minute."

"You usually call."

"I was in the neighborhood." She said lamely.

"Oh. What do you need?" he asked.

"Dean, turn around. It will be easier to talk to you if I can at least see your eyes."

"You don't want to see." He said softly. She sighed and crossed the last few feet to his computer chair and spun him around. She held in the gasp that was perched on the edge of her lips. His face had been damaged. Scars ran along his face, stopping at his eye and continuing down his face. Nose slightly crooked, and eyes shrouded in glasses, one eye magnified twice its size.

"I will start plastic surgery in a month or so. I won't look this bad when I see Adam at Christmas. I don't want to scare him." He said recognizing the astonishment in her eyes. She sighed, closed her eyes and pulled a kitchen chair and sat in front of him.

"Why do you keep sending extra money?" she bluntly asked.

"His birthday is coming up. Mom mentioned that you were going to have a party for him. Something about hiring a clown, and inviting a lot of kids over. I know that kinda stuff has to be expensive, so I thought, well, since I can't come, or do anything else, I would at least help pay for it." She was touched by his kindness. This was the Dean that she had fallen in love with. This was the Dean she had wanted to be the father of her children. This was the Dean before the drugs.

"Can you afford it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter Dean. Your mom already complains that you don't eat enough." He let out a deep sigh.

"I wish everyone would leave me alone about what I eat."

"But."

"Kelly, don't pretend that you care about me anymore. I screwed up what we had. I'm so sorry for that. I really am." He snorted. "You really have no idea how sorry I am." He turned his eyes up to hers. "But I don't want you to feel obligated to keep tabs on me. I'm staying out of Adam's life. Just like I promised. When he's at my Mom and Dad's I stay away. I do what you want me to do. You don't have to worry." He said voice clear and strong, but his heart broke. He saw the picture of his son in his mother's living room, looked around his house and there were none. Even his wallet held no pictures of those he loved. There hadn't been a lot of happy times in the last several years, no reason to take pictures, no reasons anyway, that included him.

Kelly looked down and she did her best to compose herself. "Dean, you are the father of my child. Of course I'm going to worry. I loved you once. That kind of thing just doesn't evaporate, it sticks with you. I do worry that you are hurting, that you are scared and sad. I talk to your mom, make sure that you are okay. I tell Adam about you. I tell him what kind of man you were, before the drugs. I don't tell him about the bad times." She said and omitted when she called last night to check on Adam that Mary said that Sam told Adam that his father was a bad man, she decided that she would talk to her son about his father more. Tell him more about the good things.

"Thanks for not dragging me through the mud." He said softly. "Means a lot that my kid doesn't think I'm a looser." That hit her hard. She would call Sam and yell at him for saying what he did to her son. He had no business.

"Your welcome."

"I do get to see him at Christmas right?" he asked and sounded almost like a child himself.

"If you stay sober." She said.

"I have. I don't even have aspirin in the house."

"How is your leg?"

"Hurts like a son of a bitch. But I don't take anything for it. I swear." She reached out and put a hand on his.

"I trust you." Those words hit him like a fist to the gut. This was the first time someone said that they trusted him in a long time. And for it to be the mother of his child, meant a lot.

"Thanks Kelly."

"You've been earning it. Really, though, Dean, take back the two hundred dollars. I don't think I can accept that money."

"No. Take it." She nodded recognizing the stubborn edge to it and knew without a doubt that nothing she could say or do would change his mind. It would just be easier to capitulate.

"If you are sure."

"I am."

"Okay." She said and stood. "You okay Dean?"

"I'm much better than I was." She nodded.

"See you around." He nodded and watched as she left without saying good bye.

Dean turned back to the computer and looked at the cursor as it blinked.

_**David watched as the children played on the playground. He remembered watching Simon do the same thing. Remembered how his little brother could make friends easily and assimilate into any group. Now that David was older, and lived a life that left no room for family, he was thankful that he had had the opportunity to raise his kid brother. If anything ever happened to David, at least Simon would be able to carry on the family business, and eventually, one of these days, tell someone about his big brother, the man who had raised him. And in that way, David could live on, and no matter what fate beheld him, someone would remember, and someone would grieve and someone would miss him. That was all that mattered.**_


	9. Gifts

Kelly found herself awake and cleaning the kitchen at five AM on her son's birthday. The party would begin at noon and there were still things to do, and her mother and Dean's would be over around nine to help her prepare but she needed to get her kitchen clean before the mothers came. She would be humiliated if either woman saw the dishes in the sink or Adam's toys all over the kitchen table, but sometimes, it was just hard keeping the house clean, working, and spending quality time with her child. So when she had to make a choice between the three, the housework tended to get dropped.

She eyed the package sitting on the dining room table that was just inside the next room. Dean had sent the package through the mail. The letter attached to it was for her and stated that there was a Lincoln Logs as well as a book inside for Adam. He said that he sent a card but didn't sign it from Dad, but that he signed it from "Dean, a family friend". In the letter he also asked that she use her own judgment in regards of when or if to give it to the boy. He just wanted Adam to know that he wished him a happy birthday and that he loved him, and if that meant her just giving him an extra hug and an extra "I love you" he wouldn't complain. Dean said that he hadn't earned the right yet to be in his son's life, and he wouldn't force it or even ask for it until the appointed time.

The letter saddened her and made her think of the things that Adam had said in regards to Sam. After the day he had spent with Anastasia and Sam he came home asking his mother if Sam could be his dad, because his dad apparently was a looser and that he didn't want that guy to be his father. Plus, he had said, that his daddy didn't want him so what did it matter if he called Sam dad? Kelly got that Sam was angry at Dean. Hell, she was angry at Dean. But when she talked to him on the phone, heard his voice, heard the sincerity and earnestness in his voice, that anger subsided. She felt sorry for him. She saw him for who he was, a man desperately trying to get his life back together, and willing to let everyone else dictate when and how he would go about doing that.

But Sam had been inexcusable. Adam talked about him all of the time now, acted like he was some kind of hero, and that his own father was nothing more than an idiot low life. Kelly scrubbed harder as she wondered just how often Sam has spoken to her son regarding Dean during their day together. In all of Adam's seven years she had never once said anything bad in regards to Dean, even though there had been moments when money was tight and Dean wasn't paying support, or when she was tired and sad, when she had really and truly wanted to say some nasty and vile things about Dean, but that didn't mean you had a right to tear down a child's father, especially not to make you look better, and that was what Kelly was afraid Sam was trying to do.

Sam had sent a gift as well, it was a very nice and expensive electronic handheld game, and she was loathe to give it to Adam, because it meant that the kid would be glued to it and Kelly had always tried her best to make Adam a dreamer, a kid who used his imagination to create worlds and not a game to make those worlds a reality. Dean understood that, even with the little amount of time that the two of them had spent together in the last seven years, and that explained the book and Lincoln Logs. What saddened her was the fact that if she presented both gifts to her son, he would take the game and never look at Dean's gift again. Partially because it was from Sam and partially because any seven year old in their right mind would choose the toy that makes noise over the one that didn't.

Adam woke, she gave him his birthday breakfast, gave him hugs and kisses, and gave him one from Dean, then sent him off to play while she got ready for his party. Mothers came, started making party food, and as Kelly stirred the cake batter she decided that now was the best time to ask what to do.

"I need some advice." She blurted. Mary and Kelly's mother, Susanne, stopped blowing up balloons and looked at the girl with their eyebrows up indicating that she should continue. Kelly sighed. "Dean sent Adam a gift. Lincoln Logs and a book. He said it is up to me whether or not I give it to him and if I tell him who it is from. I just don't know what to do. What do you guys think?"

Mary and Susanne looked at one another. Mary sighed and Susanne asked, "What do you want to do?"

"I want to give him the gift."

"Then do that."

"But Sam sent a gift as well."

"What does that matter?" Susanne asked.

"My son has been saying some really not nice things about Dean."

"What do you mean?"

"Apparently Sam said that Dean was a looser and a bad man among other things." Kelly sighed and put the bowl down and leaned against the counter. "Adam keeps asking me if Sam can be his daddy because he doesn't want a bad man for a dad." Kelly closed her eyes and a tear fell and she wiped her eyes. "I never wanted my son to think badly of his father. I loved Dean so much. We loved each other when we conceived Adam. The drugs took that away from me and Adam. But Dean is trying to get himself back together. Trying very hard to get himself back together, and he wants to be a part of Adam's life and I've promised Christmas, and I'm not going to go back on my word, but what if Adam looks at him and says that he doesn't want Dean to be his daddy because he's a bad man or that Uncle Sammy said that he was a looser? I'm worried about that, and the gift that Sam sent will trump Dean's and I don't know what to do."

After a long pregnant pause Susanne said, "Give him the gift from Dean, and find some way of reminding him that his father is a good man." Mary nodded. Kelly sighed again and nodded. She went back to her preparations.

"Mommy, aren't we going to go through my book before bed?" Adam asked. It was already later than he normally went to bed, and Kelly really wanted to go to sleep herself, the party had drained the life out of her and when she woke in the morning she was looking forward to a couple hours worth of cleaning. Half heartedly she had been hoping that Adam wouldn't remember their birthday tradition and just let her go to bed, but he did remember, and on his birthday he got anything he wanted. So, she smiled, despite her exhaustion and promised that she would be right back and went to her hope chest and fished out the book that she had made all of those years ago, the year she had been pregnant and given birth to the most important person in her life. Impulsively, she dug through the chest until she found what she was looking for, inserted it in the correct page and went to her son's room. She nestled down next to him and he cuddled into her side.

"Well.." she began.

"It was all rainy and yucky outside when I was born." He said before she could get a word out. She laughed and nodded.

"Yup that's right. It was raining so hard you could barely see the road. Your grandma Yeater took me to the hospital."

"And she cursed the whole way, and you were afraid that my first words were going to be some of the ones that Grandma uses." Kelly smiled and ruffled his hair.

"If you know the story so well, why do I have to tell you?" His eyes, which on a good day took up half of his face, swelled to take up the majority of his face and he shook his head vehemently.

"Please, mommy, please keep telling the story." He said and made a zipping motion across his lips. "I won't talk anymore." She took a deep breath and flipped the page.

"Well, we got to the hospital, and I got out of the car and my feet got all wet, because I didn't have any shoes that fit me anymore, because you made my feel swell up so bad. And my slippers were in the washer, I had gone on a cleaning spree that morning. I took one look at my slippers and I couldn't stand to see them anymore. So in they went, and then you decided, while my only shoes that fit, that while the only shoes that fit me were in the washer to come out. So when I got out of the car and before they put me into the wheelchair my feet and my dress got so wet that the bottom of it clung to my shins. I got into the delivery room and I was crying and scared and my mom was wiping my forehead and kissing my hair and then I heard a loud voice at the end of the hallway." Adam tapped her on the shoulder. She looked down and found his face a question.

"This isn't how the story goes."

"Yeah it does."

"No, next you pray for God to get me out of you." She smiled.

"There is more to the story that I've been waiting for you to turn seven to tell you." He looked up expectantly at his mother. "The voice at the other end of the hallway was yelling at someone and my mom went out to see what the racket was, and when she came back she brought with her your daddy. She called him and he was scared that he would miss your birth."

"My daddy was there?"

"Yeah, he came so he could meet you." She turned the page in the book and there was a picture of the day of Adam's birth. Dean had been clean that afternoon, and he looked good. Dew rag on his head, tight grey shirt and blue jeans with the knees gone. She fingered the picture and she showed her son. "Your daddy held you, and right then I knew he loved you." A tear slipped despite her best efforts. "He held you in his giant hands, hands that looked to big to be holding something so small, and said 'Thank you Kelly. He is beautiful.' He kissed and hugged you. Loved you and sat and starred at you for hours. His mom had to convince him to go home. Your daddy sat watch over you in the nursery. Wanted to make sure that no one hurt you. Your daddy loves you very much, never forget that. He isn't a bad man, he was just sick."

"Is he still sick?"

"He's getting better."

"Uncle Sammy said…"

"Your Uncle Sammy was wrong. He wasn't being very nice." Adam scrunched up his face trying to put together what all of the adults said. She kissed his head. "I love you birthday boy."

"Love you too mommy."

"Go to sleep." She said as she got up and went to the far end of the room and turned off the lights and let her baby sleep. Tomorrow she would give Dean's gift to Adam and she would hide the gift from Sam. It was Dean's turn to shine.

Dean watched the clock tick over from 11:59 to midnight and sighed, as he too remembered the day his son had been born. He pushed his glasses up into his hair, wiped the tears from his eyes, pulled them back down, and continued to write.

_**This year there would be no gift that would satisfy Simon. He was too upset over the death of his girlfriend to be concerned with his own birthday. David, remembered when Simon's birthday could be made perfect with the gift of a book that David had scrimped and saved for all winter. He remembered the happy smile and the bright eyes and the "I love you David" that would come from a book and a cupcake, in the place of a big birthday bash. Simon had never wanted much. But right now, watching his little brother stare out of the car forlornly looking for the woman that he had loved with all of his heart and wished was still with him, wished probably, that she was here instead of him. Happy birthday little brother.**_


	10. Meeting

Fall had arrived in Lawrence, Kansas and Dean was determined to mow his own lawn for the last time. His father had been coming over every single week for the last four or five months and taking care of his lawn, because he had a hard enough time standing and walking to the bathroom, and the thought of mowing the lawn had been daunting and impossible. But now, he had been working with the physical therapist, and she said that he could start doing mild physical labor, like walking, or mowing his lawn, and warned him that when he felt tired, of it the pain got to be too much he needed to stop and not try to push despite the pain.

He slowly pushed the lawn mower back and forth in his yard, careful to walk slowly and to not push too hard, when he saw a kid on a bicycle pass by him. Startled, he let go of the mower and it turned off. The kid passed by the other way and they locked eyes with each other, green starring into green, and Dean knew that was his son. For the first time in almost four years he was seeing his son in the flesh, in real life, hair blowing in the wind, flesh. His heart almost stopped. The kid peddled faster when he got a good look at Dean's face, and Dean tried not to look upset. Instead he just got the mower up and running again and he kept on pushing.

Adam, after seeing the man who looked hurt, mowing his lawn, he just had to get another look again. So, he rode by again. The man's face was all lumpy and criss crossed with lines, but his eyes, even the one that was magnified by his glasses, was green, just like his and it intrigued the young boy.

So, he continued to ride his bike back and forth, back and forth, and the man mowing his lawn pretended like he wasn't looking at him. On Adam's last trip back to his grandma's house the man wasn't mowing the lawn anymore. He was sitting in the grass, his face, which already looked like it hurt, was twisted in pain. He was rubbing at his knee and breathing heavily. The man didn't see Adam this time, didn't pretend like he wasn't looking. He was holding his knee looking like he was trying not to cry.

Adam stopped his bike and got off slowly. He walked up the yard.

"You need help Mister?" Adam asked quietly, slowly walking towards Dean. Dean stopped breathing when he heard the voice. He did not want the first time he spoke to his son to be like this, him in the grass, in so much pain that he wanted to cry. He wanted to be upright and strong for his first actual meeting with his child, but as if all of the humiliation he had endured in the last several years wasn't enough, this was about to happen.

"I'll be fine." Dean managed through clenched teeth.

"I can go get my Grammy for you. She's smart. She can fix things." Dean would have laughed if he hadn't been in so much pain. Dean opened his eyes and found Adam squatting right next to him. His little boney knees around his ears.

"No, no, no. I'm fine. Thank you though."

"You don't look like you are okay. My mommy says it's bad to lie." Dean let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"I'll be fine." He amended and forced his knee to straighten out and rubbed the muscles around his knee. A tear streamed down his face.

"Okay. Are you sure?" Dean chuckled and took his glasses off and wiped his eyes.

"Yeah. Thank you for asking." Adam scrunched up his face.

"What happened to your face?" he asked finally. Dean gathered his one leg up underneath himself. Adam sat down next to him.

"Well, I had an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"Car accident."

"Oh. How can that do that to your face?"

"I drive an old car, and when I hit the tree the glass broke and cut up my face."

"Why didn't they fix it?"

"They are going to pretty soon." Adam nodded processed the information. Dean marveled that his son was sitting next him, just watching the trees blow in the wind. "Can I help put the leave away?"

Dean looked over in towards the pile of leaves next to the large maple tree he had. It took him almost an entire week to get that pile over there. He looked to his child and shook his head. "Naw. I'm good. I'll get it later this week."

"But who will help when you fall?"

"I just can't fall."

"But you did this time."

"I did too much today."

"Accident hurt your leg too?"

"Yeah, it didn't help." He hedged.

"What broke it in the first place?" Dean smiled and then picked at the grass at his feet.

"Well a long time ago. My little brother got into some trouble. You have a little brother?" Adam shook his head no. "Well, my little brother always wanted to be a popular kid. He was smart and not too good at sports. The other boys in his grade made fun of him for it a lot. I used to play football. You play football?"

"No. Mommy says when I'm bigger I can play. She says it's too dangerous and I could get hurt."

"Mommies are smart ladies, you should listen to her. I used to get hurt a lot when I played."

"Is that how you hurt your leg?"

"No. Some boys that were popular kids at school got my little brother to do something that he knew was dangerous. But he wanted them to like him so he did it. Well, I found out what the other boys were doing to him, they weren't being very nice they were really trying to make him look dumb. And I went to go help him, and well, something fell and it landed on my leg and crushed my knee."

"Ow!" Adam said with an equally horrified facial expression.

"Yeah it hurt pretty bad after that. But my little brother was safe and he wasn't hurt. That was what really mattered to me."

"Adam!" he heard his mother yell from down the street. "Adam Seth Winchester! Where are you?!" Just as Adam was getting up Mary appeared in front of the house and she stopped when she saw Adam and Dean together.

"I'm sorry Grammy! He fell down." Adam said by way of explanation and pointing to Dean.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

"Fine. Thank you ma'am. Your grandson looked after me just fine."

"Do you need help up?"

"Naw. I'm good. Thank you though."

"Are you sure?" Mary asked again. Dean shook his head.

"Naw. Really I'll be fine." Mary sighed and put a hand around her grandson's shoulders and encouraged him to get his bike and then admonished him for not coming right back like he promised, and tell him that he scared her. She looked back at her son and he gave her a small smile, her eyes looked sad and he wished that he could quit causing her to look like that.

When the boy was out of sight, Dean felt so heartsick that his chest hurt. He had met his son. Finally.


	11. Reason

The headache was so strong that it made him double over. It had been years since he felt a headache like this. He rested against the brick wall next to him and waited for the majority of the pain to subside. When it did, he risked opening his eyes and the sunlight was almost blinding.

"You okay?" An older woman asked as she stopped. He looked up and nodded.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"You sure? Your nose is bleeding. You are awfully pale." She started to move towards him and he put a hand out stopping her.

"I'm sure. My nose bleeds sometimes. It's okay. Thank you." He said as politely as he could with the bells ringing in his ears, and jack hammers pounding his brain into mush. The lady nodded, didn't look convinced, and left him to his own devices. The young man was thankful that she left, he needed time to get his bearings and figure out what his next move was.

When he was able to stand up and walk without looking like a drunk trying to pass a sobriety test, he picked up his back pack, put it firmly on his shoulders, and looked around, determined what part of the city he was in and then started in the direction of the library. Once found, he made a bee line for the bathroom, and took a good look at himself. His hazel eyes were blood shot and he had a smear of blood underneath his nose, smearing onto his cheek where he had hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand. Running the water he wet a paper towel and he washed his face and his hands, making sure to get all of the blood off of his hands and face, he couldn't risk anyone stopping him and asking him questions that he wasn't prepared to answer quite yet. He took off his tan jacket that was dirty and had blood on the sleeve and bundled it up and stuffed it inside the back pack and put it back on his back and went out into the main part of the library.

No one paid him any mind, he looked like your average student looking for information for a term paper and he was suddenly grateful for his ability to blend into his surroundings. He took a seat close to the newspaper rack, and he took the newspaper off of the rack and looked at the date, he smiled to himself, he had made it.

Finding information on Samuel Winchester was not a difficult task. The boy did everything in the spotlight, from winning the national spelling bee at 8 years old to being the youngest to graduate from Stanford Law. The young man nodded his appreciation for his research subject. Once he had devoured every detail regarding the life of Samuel Winchester, he turned his attention to the brother Dean Winchester. Dean was more difficult to find information on. He was a quarterback for the local high school football team and was benched his senior year, much to fan disappointment, because of an injury he had received off field. There wasn't much else to find except one front page headline that read, "Former Lawrence Puma In Car Crash" The information pointed that there had been drugs involved, and that Dean was lucky to escape the crash with his life. The young researcher swallowed thickly.

The sight of a black 1967 Chevy Impala wrapped around a tree, twisted worse than any semi had ever done to it, curled his toes, and made his stomach twist and roll and threaten to throw the last of the food that was in his stomach back up onto the microfiche viewer. He blinked back tears and hurried out of the library and went to the county records. He had to make sure Dean Winchester was still alive; it was his whole reason for being here.


	12. Arranged

It was amazingly easy to break into Sam Winchester's house, and even easier to do it without it looking like anyone had been in the house other than its two normal occupants. The visitor explored the house and thereby researched the life of Samuel A. Winchester.

The man was arrogant, he had every single award and degree he held displayed pompously above the mantel in the living room, the tall man went to the mantel and looked at all of the framed trophies and shook his head and rolled his eyes in disgust. He scanned the pictures on the mantel and most of them were of Sam and his fiancé, there were one or two of Sam and his parents, but the brother was conspicuously absent in each photo. The mysterious stranger had the boiling urge to swipe a long arm across the mantel and destroy all of the pictures and awards.

"No, you can't do that. You can't let him suspect you were ever here." The hazel eyed stranger said to himself. He forced himself to go into the rest of the house and do what he had come to do, he put taps on each of the man's phones and he bugged the house, he made quick work of it, he had been trained by the best, and he left the house in the same condition he left it, despite his healthy desire to destroy half of the things that belonged to the man who didn't deserve everything he had.

Sam and Anna came home later that night and unbeknownst them every single word they spoke was being monitored from across the street in a nondescript car, by a man who was more than ready to take them both out.

"You need to call Kelly back." Anna sighed as they sat down to dinner. "She called three times today, and she called my cell phone."

"I called her the other night."

"Well apparently she isn't done talking to you."

"I don't want to hear it."

"I know baby. But…"

"All she wants to do is yell at me some more for what I said to Adam." Sam daintily put a forkful of chicken in his mouth and wiped his lips clean afterwards.

"What did you say that could possibly have her underwear in such a knot?"

"I told Adam what kind of man his father was. Even though she thinks Dean is an idiot she doesn't want his son to think that. I completely don't understand that. Adam should know what kind of man his dad is, should know what kind of man he shouldn't grow up to be." Anna sighed.

"Some women are just stupid."

"Apparently she is. I never thought she was before. But this whole thing with Dean and Adam really has me rethinking it. It's like she's starting to forgive him. How can anyone forgive the father of their child for being absent from his life for almost the completely 7 years of the kid's life? What could Dean possibly have done that would make her think it is even okay to think about letting the kid near him."

"She told me that she made a deal with him. If he stayed clean for a year, which marks this Christmas, I guess, she will let Adam see him." Anna stated

"I don't think that's a good idea. All that is going to happen is Dean will see the kid, and then go back off and find something to get high on."

"I agree."

Sam, swallowed, put his hand to his mouth before stating. "He has mom and dad snowed too. They think this poor pity Dean routine is him getting himself back together, showing how sorry he is and how much better he is doing. They so can't see through the mess and I have no idea why. They are just stupid if they let him pull the wool over their eyes again. He's done it so many times, he doesn't deserve any more chances. He's a loser, and an idiot, and there is no reason in the world why I should call Dean and apologize for what I said to either him or his son. It was all true and I stand by every word of it."

"I'm proud of you. You shouldn't let them bully you into that. Dean is just simply a looser, everyone else in the world knows it, I can't figure out why your parents and Kelly aren't convinced." Sam sighed and put his fork down and leaned against the back of his chair.

"It would make life so much simpler if he had died. There wouldn't be these issues. Mom and Dad wouldn't have to worry about him, or worry about the hospital visits and they wouldn't have to worry about keeping Adam away from him. Dean wanted to die when he wrapped that car around the tree, he just should have gotten what he wished for." Sam sighed and shook his head as if to clear away the cob webs. Let's not talk about Dean. It's making me sick."

The tall, man with the hazel eyes floppy hair, felt his blood burn, felt the anger rise in his chest, felt his breathing quicken. He clutched the amulet around his neck and forced the tears down.

"Oh. Right. You want to live in a world without Dean Winchester. Oh my dear idiot, that can be arranged."


	13. Hazel Eyes

For three weeks after his initial encounter with Samuel A Winchester, the young man observed his target from the shadows, he had skill and stealth and the ability to blend into the background and he used it to its fullest while tracking his objective.

It didn't take long for the floppy haired man to set his date, the two would be going to a fancy dinner that schmooze benefactors for Anna's father's campaign. Anna's plan was to get her hair done and then meet Sam back at home so they could make sure they coordinated or some such bull shit, the young man didn't really care what the reason, he was just relying on their plan.

Arranging so that the hair stylist would do more damage than good hadn't been as hard as he had expected. The stylist really didn't like Anna too much and the money that he put in her palm helped to convince her that blonde, a yellow unsightly blonde, streaked through her chestnut hair, would be much more becoming than the normal subtle reds that she normally employed. The stylist assured him that it would take more than an hour to repair. Hazel Eyes needed more time alone with Sam Winchester, the man that would have his brother dead, the man who lied to his clients and who even cheated on his beloved wife, they had some talking to do.

Lurking in the shadows inside the house was easy enough, and Hazel Eyes was sitting on the chair next to the bed and waiting for his target to emerge from the bathroom. When he did Hazel Eyes spoke, "Going to a fancy dinner?"

Sam startled, looked and found a form lurking in the shadows blocking the only escape from the room. "Who are you!? What are you doing in my house?!" The lawyer demanded shrinking back, reaching for the cell phone that he had left on the dresser.

"Looking for this?" Hazel Eyes held an object out into the light. It was Sam's cell phone. Sam's heart sank into his feet. "I took the liberty of scanning through it. Your mistress will be pissed when she finds out your married, and Anna, well she's a bitch as it is, but when she finds this out, wow, are you going to be in trouble. And I noticed that your brother isn't on your list. Why?"

"Why do you know so much about me?" he asked quaking.

"Why isn't your brother on your contact list!?" the young man with the floppy hair demanded.

"All of our money is in the safe. I'll open it for you."

"I don't want your money you self obsessed fool. I want to know why your brother's name isn't on your cell phone contact list. This isn't hard. I realize that you have a Stanford Law Degree, you should be at least moderately intelligent, or did you just sleep your way through your classes?"

"I don't like my brother." Sam said finally. "Did he send you to kill me?" Hazel Eyes barked out a laugh.

"My God. You really don't know him do you? So wrapped up in your life, you have no idea."

"What is this?"

"This is your punishment."

"Punishment for what?"

"For being a self absorbed prick. For not caring about the things that are truly important in this life."

"What are you? Some kind of avenging angel?"

"Angel?" Hazel Eyes' voice went an octave down. "Me? No. I'm no angel. I'm something a little darker, a little more dangerous than any angel. I am your judge and jury. And you are about to be sentenced to purgatory." Sam Winchester was actually shaking as the man in the chair stood up. He moved so quickly that Sam barely registered it. The figure kicked him the jewels and then while he was writhing in pain on the floor he felt the air in the room shift, he looked up and watched as the tall man pulled time and space apart. There was a window in his bedroom to some place else. A place with what looked like Dean's car. A place that didn't look happy, a place he was fairly certain he didn't want to be.

"No." he croaked out.

"Yes." The man said opening his eyes again, they were bright with pain and his nose had started to bleed. "You deserve a whole lot more than this, you spineless sniveling man. You don't deserve to have your mom and dad, and a brother who loves you. You don't deserve to be the one to live this life. I do. You wanted to be in a world without your brother." The attacker's voice cracked. "Then enjoy it you son of a bitch." He said and threw the man into the opening kicking and screaming. Once through, Hazel Eyes closed the gate and collapsed.


	14. I Quit

Hazel Eyes awoke to a splitting headache which was further exacerbated by Anna yelling her way up the stairs about her hair, which was now an off shade brown and looked dyed and manipulated, and then she continued to yell when she saw him on the bed. She was under the impression that he had simply fallen asleep after his shower and didn't notice the blood that had dried under his nose. She simply commanded him to go back to the bathroom and put on a suit and get himself ready, that she couldn't bare anymore humiliation than she was already going to suffer because of her hair.

Hazel Eyes was tired of hearing her voice by the time they got into the car. She wasn't pleased with this choice in suit, and complained that the tailor had made the suit too small, because his upper body looked like the Incredible Hulk as he was bulking out and turning green. Hazel Eyes sighed and drove, taking directions from the bitchy woman.

The affair that they had had to attend was beyond dull, and he heard more stories about golf games, cheating clients out of money, and what kind of expensive summer homes they were buying than he could shake a stick at. He was beyond bored by the time they left and more than a little disgusted with the ostentatious display of wealth and lack of morals. Hazel Eyes had been taught morals, he had been taught how to treat others and these men, who were decades older than he, seemed to have no idea exactly what a moral was much less how to practice their teachings.

The next morning when Anna woke up she found the man who she thought was her Sam sitting in front of his lap top. It appeared that he was editing his resume.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I quit."

"What?" She demanded. "My dad got you that job."

"I want to do something else."

"What in the hell are you talking about Sam?!"

"I don't want to work at some huge corporate law firm. I'm applying for the public defender job."

"Public defender?! They don't make enough money to live on."

"I guess you'll need to get a job as well."

"Oh hell no."

"You have a college education."

"Communications. What the hell does that do? Nothing."

"Then why did you major in that?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"One that seems perfectly logical."

"Something happened to you. You must be sick. I'll just call Gary and get your job back, tell him that there was some big mistake and you really didn't mean it."

"Oh, you can call him all you want, you can get that job back, but I'm not going to it. I don't want to work for rich stuck up snobs who care more about their bank account than the people around them." Anna threw her hands up in the air, her mouth was agape, and without her make up she wasn't nearly as attractive as she was the night before. She looked more like a skull that was being animated by a vengeful spirit than a beautiful twenty something young woman.

"What is wrong with you?"

"You asked that already and I told you. Nothing. I just had a…" he paused looking for the right word. "Epiphany last night. I don't need money to be happy."

"Well I need money to be happy. You did too yesterday." Hazel Eyes shrugged his shoulders.

"Not anymore. So, if you can't live with that, then maybe we should reconsider getting married."

"No. I worked too hard for this marriage. I will not give it up simply because you've gone stark raving mad. In a couple of days you will come to your senses again, and then we will be okay again." She said and started for the bathroom. "Yeah, you'll be okay again in a few days." She reassured herself as she shut the door. Hazel Eyes laughed to himself and hit the send button on his resume. He had not gone insane, he had been insane, but now he was finally getting his sanity back. There was just one last piece to his puzzle he had to reconnect with, had to shape back into the right piece, and he would be fine, and the horror show that had been his life would fade back into the world of nightmares and he wouldn't never have to experience that kind of sadness or pure and utter despair again.


	15. All In A Day's Work

"Dinner done yet Mom?" Dean asked as he picked an onion from the frying pan. His hand was greeted with a spatula smack. "Ow." He said and rubbed his hand and gave his mom a sad puppy look.

"It will be done when it is done." She laughed. "Go sit down." Dean smiled and limped heavily towards the chair. "Your dad says that you move too fast at work."

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he sat down in the chair.

"Your limp is worse today. You sore?"

"Yeah. Just a little."

"You ran around the shop didn't you?"

"I don't run anywhere anymore Mom." He said trying to make a joke. His mother was not amused.

"Dean." She said warningly. He shrugged.

"I did a little more than I usually do." He hedged. Truth was, Bobby Singer from Singer Salvage, had come into the shop today. John had a part that he needed, and Bobby was passing through on his way back to South Dakota so he had stopped in to get the part himself. The whole encounter had been strange. Bobby had asked Dean to show him around, to take care of the part himself. And when he found the battered and bruised Impala outback he asked about the owner. Dean had stated it was his, and that he was trying to get parts as cheep as possible and trying to get her back in mint condition. He even found himself telling the gruff old man in a trucker hat about how he was the one who had put the poor classic in this condition. That was information he usually didn't feel the need to share with anyone, but for some reason he did with Bobby.

The whole encounter had been strange. Dean felt like he knew this man, like he had known him for years. Like the two were supposed to share this big secret, but Dean was at a loss in regards to the secret. It made him a little uncomfortable, but on the other hand, this was the first person to talk to him in months about something other than drugs or his medical issues, and it felt good talking shop with a fellow mechanic and a fellow connoisseur of classic cars. They had gone under the hood of the Impala and Bobby had parts for the young man that he could let him have cheep. Dean accepted readily, and when Bobby, in his truck, waved goodbye, Dean felt an incredible sense of loss. He had been on what felt like a high all day, and his mother asking about his limp, taking him back down to who he was today and what had happened to him was really letting the wind out of his sails.

"And now you're sore."

"A little." He shrugged it off. She sighed.

"What have we said about taking care of yourself?"

"I'm not five Mom."

"What has your physical therapist said?"

Dean huffed and pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his very tired eyes. "Don't you ever get sick and tired of talking about my medical stuff?"

"I want to know what's going on with you."

"But we never talk about anything else. I mean, you and dad never talk about anything else to me, it is always about how I'm feeling, what the doctor said, what the physical therapist said. We don't' have conversations anymore." Mary looked at her eldest and found that she didn't know quite how to give him the answer without hurting his feelings.

"Baby." She started and stirred the contents of the pan again. Dean was in such a good mood today, those were so rare and they were precious when they came about, and she didn't want to lose that, especially with what would be coming in a few minutes. "Baby." She started again. "We don't know you anymore." She said softly. Dean felt the punch to the stomach almost instantaneously. "I know my teenager who was so full of life and excited to go to Ohio State to play football and go to college, I know the drug addicted young man who was horrible to himself and to others, but I don't know you. I don't know the clean and damaged Dean. I don't' know what else to talk about with you. Your father doesn't either. We just don't know." Dean swallowed, knowing every single word she spoke was the truth, but sometimes the truth was more painful then any lie you could tell.

He licked his lips, his eyes flicking to his mother momentarily and then back down to his oil stained hands. "Oh." He said, voice cracking involuntarily. "I get that."

"But it doesn't mean that we don't-" she was cut off by the front door opening and Sam's voice ringing out "Mom? Dad? I'm here." Dean shot up as quickly as he could. His eyes went to his mom and she gave a sad smile.

"Your brother is coming for dinner. Did I mention that?" Dean's face paled.

"Sam! We're in the kitchen." Dean heard heavy footfalls and he reached for his cane. He was going to get the hell out of here. He couldn't do it tonight, couldn't have his mood soured any further by his baby brother.

Hazel Eyes entered the room quickly, tie hanging half mast around his neck and when his eyes caught sight of his brother, his mouth fell open and he gasped.


	16. Public Defender

Hazel Eyes forced his mouth to close; the lump in his throat was not so easily thwarted. Dean was a mess. Scars lining his face, aging it greatly making him look decades older than his thirty years. Hazel Eyes even saw a scar or two poking out from underneath his rolled up shirt sleeves, shirt sleeves that didn't cover strong muscles, but weak and thin arms. Hazel Eyes' stomach soured and for a moment he thought he might hurl. But what made him stop, and made his body tingle with disbelief and heartache wasn't glasses that magnified one eye and left the other normal sized, but the cane that Dean was holding in order to keep his body standing. Hazel Eyes' breath quickened and he struggled to keep it under control and away from eyes that might be able to detect the change. He blinked several times trying to keep the memory of Dean's chest being shredded and his insides eaten by hounds that were unnatural and not of the friendly variety at bay. The man that stood in front of him was what would be left of Dean had he survived being mauled by Hell Hounds, and it took every single ounce of strength that he had to keep himself from running to the man standing in front of him, holding onto a cane to stabilize himself and looking as if he were trying to keep himself together and to stand strong and able in front of the man who he thought was his baby brother.

Dean watched as his brother scrutinized him. Felt self conscious in a way that he never had before. The look was disapproving and Sam looked like he might puke. That was a new low even for Dean. He had made his brother disappointed, he had made him disgusted, but he had never made the guy want to hurl before. Dean forced his eyes away from Sam's and said, "I'm on my way out Sam." Dean put his cane and bad leg out first and started his way towards the door.

The response from the older man had been expected, but it didn't mean that it was any easier for him to accept. Hazel Eyes knew exactly how Sam had treated this man, and knew that Dean was more than a little wary in his presence. It was one of the many things that he would have to rectify in order to make this life livable.

Mary hurried to her eldest and put a hand on his shoulder stopping him from hurrying out of the house. She felt that this was the one chance she had to make the two of them sit down together and talk, be civilized. After Sam's last visit, she and John had come to the decision that they would not allow Sam to say those kinds of hurtful things to Dean a second time. Dean had made mistakes, but he was doing his best to rectify those mistakes and Sam had to at least be civil in his presence, had to at least give his brother a chance to prove himself. It was all any of them were asking, just give Dean a chance to prove that he has changed and become a better man, the man that they all knew he would have been without the drugs.

Mary's first reaction when Sam called and asked if he could come by and have dinner with his family was to welcome Sam with open arms, and call Dean and let him know Sam was coming and allow Dean to make his excuses and not come. But in a split second decision she realized that she needed an opportunity to prove to Dean that she was on his side, she hadn't done a very good job of it last time, and this time she was determined to do this right. And she knew the only way she was going to be able to get both of her boys under the same roof again was to not tell either of them that the other was going to be there, so she didn't call Dean, didn't tell him that Sam was coming, and she didn't tell Sam that Dean would be here. She really and truly wanted her boys to reconnect, to be the boys that they were when they were little, before the accident, before high school, before peer pressure. She just wanted them to come together, and love each other again, be brothers again. But with the look on Sam's face, and the tension in Dean's shoulders, she suddenly wasn't so sure if she had made the right decision, but damn it, she wanted to give it a try at least.

"Dean. Stay. Have supper like you usually do." She said trying to guide him back to his chair, but he had grown stronger in recent months and would not be forced into a chair.

"No, Sam doesn't come down that often and it looks like he just got off work and the last thing he wants to deal with is me. I'll come by tomorrow night for dinner." He started to push forward.

"Dean. Please. Stay. Sweetie, please." Dean looked down into his mom's eyes and saw the pleading and the want for him to stay right there and to have dinner with them. He swallowed, looked up at Sam and sighed inwardly. He had been having such a good day, he really didn't want to have it spoiled by his baby brother, who seemed hell bent on tearing down, stomping and spitting on the little bit of self esteem and self respect that he had achieved in the last couple of months. He would rather go home, eat a bologna sandwich and work on his story. Hell, a root canal would be more fun than this. But the look in his mother's soft pleading blue eyes reminded him that he owed her so much, much more than he could ever repay, so if she wanted him to stay here and sit and be demeaned for an evening, he would do it. She deserved to have whatever she wanted. He nodded, limped over to the wall and leaned his cane against it and sat down in the chair that he had been sitting in before Sam had arrived.

Mary pushed her hair out of her face and tried not to look as nervous as she felt. "What are you doing in town Sam?" she asked and went back to the stove. "I thought that you had big cases to work on. You said the last time I talked to you that you didn't know when you would be able to get back here because of that."

Recognizing the attempt at small talk, and to break the tension in the room, Hazel Eyes forced his eyes away from Dean and onto Mary. He took off his suit coat and slung it over the back of the chair and sat down. He did his best not to look at Dean and direct any comment to him. He couldn't be Mr. Nice Guy right off the bat, Dean was too smart, he would notice something was up. So instead he rolled his sleeves up and answered his mother. "Uh. Well. I quit." Mary stopped stirring and looked up at her youngest who had been money driven for so many years she couldn't fathom a reason why he would have quit one of the most prestigious law firms in the state where he earnings came in at six digits.

"What do you mean you quit?" She asked. Hazel Eyes caught a glimpse of Dean and he looked just as startled as his mother.

"I quit. I had a job interview today with the public defender's office around here." Mary's brow was furrowed and she shot a look to her eldest, and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Why?"

"I decided I needed a change."

"And what does Anna think about this sudden desire for a change?"

"She thinks I'm insane." He laughed and stood and went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. "She went to stay with her parents for a while, she says that when I regain my senses that she'll come back."

"Pubic defender?" Dean asked to no one in particular.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Hazel Eyes asked with a harsh whip crack to his voice. He had to play the part for a while, he had to be harsh, rough, demeaning to this man, a man who he revered like a father, who he had missed so terribly much for so long. He had to do this just long enough, then he could get back to the way things were. He could be happy again, he could feel normal again.

"It just doesn't sound like you Sam."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You just haven't been the person who defends people like…"

"You?"

"Well yeah."

"I won't defend people like you Dean. I'll only defend people worthy of defense. There aren't too many things in this life you are worth of." Dean pulled his eyes away from his brother and suddenly found his shoes interesting. Hazel Eyes watched Dean shut down and cursed inwardly. He prayed to God that he would help him and guide him through this.

Mary hung her head and sighed.


	17. That A Boy

AN: Adder was the one who helped me come up with the reason for Dean's addiction.  I wanted to thank her profusely for her support and ideas.

* * *

Mary, remembering her promise to herself, looked up and at her youngest son. "Samuel Winchester! That was uncalled for. Your brother was just asking you a simple question. A question that I would like to hear the answer to as well."

"He doesn't care about what I do mom!" He yelled. Hazel Eyes had spent enough time listening to Sam, reading his e-mails, and observing him to know that when he felt he was in the right he got defensive and mean. "The only reason he even asked was for when he gets himself back into trouble and needs someone to bail him out. Like the last time."

Dean inwardly cringed at the last time he had spent time in jail. It had not been a pleasant experience in more ways then Sam would ever know. Dean was once considered handsome by most women and a pretty boy to other guys. In high school he had actually answered to pretty boy when his team mates had called him that, never once did he think that would be an issue for him, but when he was in jail for six months, he learned quickly that being pretty wasn't a good thing. He gave an involuntary shudder at the memories surfacing.

Mary slammed down the wooden spoon she was using and it startled Dean. "Sam! In case you have missed life in the last year, your brother has cleaned himself up. He is doing his best to earn our respect."

"He never had my respect." Hazel Eyes said coldly and prayed that he would be forgiven. His Dean would forgive just about anything his baby brother did, but this Dean, well, there were lots of differences and he wasn't sure about all of them, he hoped that the forgiving nature was just a part of him like it had been his Dean. At the thought of his Dean, Hazel Eyes felt a bubble of emotion rise up and threaten to come out in the form of tears. He pushed them back down into his stomach. He had had enough of tears, enough of sadness, he had gone against his brother's final wishes in life and played with and honed his demon powers and by God he learned how to use them to get somewhere where he could be happy again, and he wasn't going to let this idiot Sam take away his only chance.

Hazel Eyes chanced a glance over at Dean, and caught the look of frustration and fatigue wash over the man, and Hazel Eyes realized that this conversation had been going on a lot longer than just recently, and he was tiring of it. His Dean, the man he had grown up with, loved, taken for granted, failed to save, worshiped, envied and knew better than he knew himself wouldn't allow this to go on much longer. This Dean took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, and Hazel Eyes wondered if that meant he would go on a tirade, like his Dean.

"Look Sam." And he was. Hazel Eyes had to hold back a smile. He was hoping that this would happen. Sam needed to be put in his place so he could take over his life and there be a reason. He needed a reason to be able to crawl back to his brother, apologize, for things he hadn't done, things that he had done and this Dean didn't know or understand, and be forgiven for all of these things, and for everything to finally be right in his world again. "I'm tired of this. I get it. You don't like me anymore. I screwed up so big that you and your white collar mentality can't accept me anymore. Fine. I get it. I don't give a shit anymore. All I want is to be able to be in the same room with you. I want to be able to come to family functions again. I want to be a part of my family again. If you don't want a relationship with me. Fine. Be that way. I don't care. You don't want me in your wedding because I'm an embarrassment, wonderful, super even, means I don't have to get in a suit, I just won't come to your wedding. But when you come here for thanksgiving I want to be here, I am going to be able to see my son this Christmas, and Kelly will bring him here and I want to be able to sit with you and you not snip at me the entire night, or say things to my son about me that are true but he doesn't need to know yet. I don't want you telling him that I'm some horrible person, or saying things in front of him to me that are derogatory and mean. Grow up Sam. Get past it. I'm trying to. I'm tired of apologizing, just freaking sick of it. I can't apologize anymore. I've said everything I know how to. But because of you this happened to me."

Sam threw his hands in the air in exasperation "Don't give me that shit. It isn't my fault that you became an addict."

Dean took a deep breath and looked down trying to remind his body that he wasn't capable of jumping out of his seat and strangling the man in front of him. "No. That was my choice, my mistake, but I got hooked because of my leg. Did you know that? No. That's right. I chose not to tell you that because you were too young and you were mad at me. Because I ruined your social life. Well Sam. You ruined the last ten years of my life."

"Dean!" Mary shouted.

"I'm done Mom. I'll let you and your perfect son have dinner together. I'm going home. I don't want to put up with this anymore. I'm sick of it. All of it." He said and gathered his cane and ignored the pleas of his mother and walked out the door and slammed it in his wake. It took everything that Hazel Eyes had to keep the smile he was feeling off of his face. _That a boy Dean. I knew you had it in you._


	18. The Rest Will Come

Mary came back into the kitchen area after the door had been shut several seconds. Hazel Eyes watched her stalk towards him, she came closer and she raised a hand as if to slap him, he was prepared to take the hit, even expecting it, he deserved it, but instead of hitting him she put her hand down and glowered at him. The glower was more disturbing than any physical smack she could have given him.

"That." She said pointing towards the door. "Was uncalled for."

"He started it."

"You have no business coming here and just making your brother feel unwelcome. This is supposed to be a place he can come, have dinner, and feel like a part of the family. I've spent so much time trying to get him to a place where he can function like normal people, where we can sit down and get to know him again, and you come here and just rip away everything we've done. After you left the last time, it took almost three weeks to get Dean to come to dinner again. Then what you said about him to his son. My God Sam. Who have you become?" Hazel Eyes swallowed the apology that was on the tip of his tongue. He had watched these people, so the shock of seeing Mary Winchester alive, happy and healthy wouldn't be such a shock to his system, but he had never ever thought of his mother being angry with her boys and he didn't know quite how to take it. He knew one thing for certain, Sam wouldn't apologize, he wouldn't be sorry for his actions. So he raised his chin up a fraction and looked down his nose at his mother.

"Dean deserves what he gets."

"You say that all of the time, but you are never here, you aren't the one watching him struggle to get his life back on track, trying to stay clean so he can see his son. Sam. You need to let go of whatever you are holding onto so tightly that makes you hate your brother so badly."

"You know what he did to me." He said coldly.

"Oh right, he came to your graduation drunk. Caused a lot of racket. Embarrassed you. Right. Oh and he stole twenty dollars from you to get high." Mary stopped and put her finger to her mouth in mock thought. "Then there was the time that he…"

"Mom, he stole from me. His own brother."

"They are just things baby. Just things. He never once laid a hand on you. He never hurt any of us. He stole, he lied, he hurt himself, he left Kelly without a father for her child, he worried us, he terrified me, he kept your father up nights, but he never once did anything that wasn't fixable. He's living with the consequences of his actions, he is even trying to make amends for them. Do not begrudge him that. And if all you care about are the things that he took away from you, then I don't know you any more than I know Dean. And at least there is a reason for Dean."

The door opened and shut and John Winchester entered the kitchen and looked around. Hazel Eyes had never had a good relationship with his own father and one of the many things he wanted, one of the many reasons he was here, was to try and have a relationship with John Winchester that didn't end in a shouting match every time they saw each other. But when he saw the man in the flesh for the first time, it took absolutely every ounce of strength that Hazel Eyes possessed not to allow the tears to form and the apologies to be said.

John looked at his wife and saw the anger radiating off of her and then looked to his youngest son. "Where's Dean?" he asked slowly.

"Sam started another fight with him. This time he wasn't going to take it. He just left."

"Sam. You can not just keep starting fights with him. He's—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, he's trying to get his life back together."

"You need to get off of your high horse young man."

"Whatever." Hazel Eyes rolled his eyes in what he hoped was a petulant look.

"You can get out of my house." John said coldly. Hazel Eyes shuddered. He had heard those words with the same inflection before, and it had ended badly then. "If you can't be nice to my family I don't want you to ever come back. I've had enough of this Sam. Enough. Your brother is not a bad person, he has made plenty of mistakes, we all have, and you have no business coming here and trying to destroy everything he has worked so hard for. The last time you were here, you treated my son very poorly and I won't have you doing that again. He doesn't deserve that." John's eyes were intense, the last time Hazel Eyes had seen John Winchester with that look in his eye he was killing a monster that was trying to eat Sam for breakfast. Sam licked his lips.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"I didn't quite hear that young man." John said.

"I'm sorry." Hazel Eyes said louder, hoping that the shaking he felt wasn't traveling through his voice as well.

"I'm not the one you should apologize to. Go to your brother's house and tell him you're sorry and get him back down here. Your mother prepared his favorite foods tonight and he deserves to be able to eat it. Go. Now!" John barked and Hazel Eyes turned and immediately headed out the door and down the street to his brother's house.

John hung his head and sighed the moment the door closed. "Stubborn son of a bitch." John said with a sigh. Mary wrapped her arms around his back and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We promised that we wouldn't let what happened last time happen again. We can't risk Dean's mental health for Sam's grudges." John nodded.

"I know. I just wish that it wasn't so hard. I just wish t hat they were best friends, that they depended on each other, that they loved each other."

"They love each other John."

"I hope so."

"They do. I really believe that my boys love each other. The rest will come."


	19. Fight

"_**How can you be happy with a turkey sandwich, chips, and a pumpkin pie bought from a store for Thanksgiving? It is supposed to be about homemade foods and warmth. Not sitting in yet another run down motel room, eating at a table we have to prop up with a book, and so far past disgusting that we have to put our food down on napkins before we eat it."**_

"_**Is that what you did while you were at school?"**_

"_**What?" Simon looked confused.**_

"_**Is that what you did while you were at school? Eat a fancy home cooked meal at a big clean table in a two story house with a fire in the fire place, mom and dad at the ends of the table, and chatter about whatever stupid thing crossed their paths?"**_

"_**Yeah." He said unsure of where the line of questioning was going.**_

"_**Was that good? Was that what you wanted?"**_

"_**Yeah. Isn't that what you want?"**_

"_**I have what I want." David said quietly. **_

"_**What? You want to eat in a dump like this?"**_

"_**I want to eat with family. While you were away I…" David put his sandwich down suddenly uninterested in it. "Doesn't matter—"**_

The doorbell rang and Dean sighed and forced himself to hobble out of his chair. He wiped the tears from his eyes. His anger had abated during his arduous walk back to his house, and now he was just simply sad and frustrated and he was trying to take it out on his fictional demon hunting brothers and it had been working until the stupid doorbell rang.

Expecting it to be his mother he opened the door and said, "I'm fine mom. I will eat. I swear I will eat." Then he looked into the open door and saw Sam standing there, looking none too pleased to be standing on his front porch. Dean sighed.

"What the hell do you want? Another round? Another attempt at making me feel like an ass?"

Hazel Eyes forced a sigh and a roll of the eyes. "Can I just come in? We don't need this broadcast in public."

"Of course. Can't ruin your image. God knows mine can't get any worse." Dean walked away from the door and hobbled back into the living room. Hazel Eyes was happy that Dean turned away from him, he wanted to get a grip on himself and play the part he needed to play in order for this to happen correctly. He entered the house and closed the door behind him and got a good look at the living room that was right off of the entry way.

Over the years, he had wondered many times what exactly Dean's house would look like if he had one. He pictured pictures of swimsuit models on the walls, furniture that didn't match, and quite frankly he never assumed that the house would be clean. Dean was a slob, always had been, and as children it had irked Hazel Eyes to no end. But now as he looked around the house, that was Dean's, he was hit in the stomach with more force than a ghost throwing him across the room, that the man who was sitting at the computer chair in the living room was not his Dean, was not the man who had raised him. The bare walls, the clean house, even the slight hint of lemon scented furniture polish that tickled his nose felt all wrong. However, Hazel Eyes forced himself to stand straighter, and decided that an imitation of the man who raised and loved him was better than what he had back in his world. Anything was better than that. He hoped that the real Sam was enjoying his wish.

"You just going to stand there?" Dean demanded from his seat. "You think that coming inside my house close to me will taint you or something. I don't have acid on the seats of anything. Not like you will be infected the moment you sit down." Hazel Eyes moved farther into the house, and again was amazed at the starkness of it. There were no pictures, no touches that indicated anyone really lived there. It was stark and cold and quiet, despite the man seething in the corner.

Hazel Eyes took a seat next to him and gave him his eyes. "Look. I may be moving back here really soon. And I don't want mom breathing down my back complaining at me that you won't come over because of me, because for whatever ungodly reason she trusts you enough to be in her house and to not steal-"

"When are you going to let that go!?"

"You have no right to get angry with me. You took things from me!"

"You took away my life! I have every right to be angry! I am fucking allowed to be angry!"

"I did not take away your life!"

"You did too! You had to go and try to be popular, had to go into that house, that you knew was dangerous, and not tell mom and dad. Of course you did that. And I go in there to reason with you, to get you out safely so you wouldn't get in trouble and the freaking roof collapses on my leg! My damn knee was destroyed because of that. My football career was destroyed. Everything was taken from me. I never complained. I let you be mad at me, I let you think whatever you wanted. The fact that you were alive was more important to me. That you were safe and okay. I was scared that night, so scared that you would get hurt or even die. And here you are ten years later treating me like an infestation. Yeah. I stole from you. I got hooked on those pain meds. I got hooked on anything that made me feel numb. Yeah. I screwed up. I have so paid the price Sam. I've paid it time and time again. I can't apologize anymore to anyone other than myself."

Hazel Eyes blinked. He had to keep the tears out of his eyes, had to keep his anger solidly in place. He thought of the demons destroying his brother in hell and the anger came back to him as surly as breathing and he looked this Dean in the eye.

"We need to be civil with one another." Dean threw his hands up.

"Everything is always about you Sam."

"We need to act civil around mom and dad."

"I will if you will."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not the one telling your son that you are a loser." Sam stopped dead and hoped that his dismay didn't register on his face. He knew that Sam had said that about Dean, but he didn't know that Dean really knew what was said, he had assumed that he knew that Sam hadn't said nice things about him, but that Sam had told his son that he was a loser-that he didn't know.

"Fine. I'll be civil."

"Good. So will I."

"Then it's settled."

"It is."

"Mom wants you to come back over and eat." Hazel Eyes said through gritted teeth.

"Fine." Both men stood and stared at each other hard, angry, and breathing heavy, each poised and ready for more fighting, and each hoping in their hearts that they could end the anger and hostility and become brothers.

That night Hazel Eyes lay in his bed in the hotel room he rented for the night, two double beds please, and curled into a ball and cried. He missed his brother so much, this was all too much. This Dean was broken in ways that he didn't understand. He had no connection with this Dean, Hazel Eyes thought, and now he realized it was a foolish childish thought, that no matter what time, no mater what space, no mater what dimension, he and Dean had a bond that could never be severed, hell, heaven, different life, none of it mattered, that cord would always be there and it would forever connect them. Now, he knew that wasn't right. He felt no connection, felt nothing but the animosity and hurt radiating off of the older man, and Hazel Eyes wondered if he could force the connection, force this man into the man he wanted to be, and he wondered if that was fair. He had come here just to have him back, just to feel normal again. It wasn't working. And for the first time since he came up with the idea to come here and assume Sam's life he had doubts as to whether or not this was a good decision.


	20. Different

"Hey Dean, where's Dad?" Sam asked as he hurried into the shop. Dean looked up from the paperwork he was filling out and pointed in the direction of the cars that were currently being worked on.

"He's working on the Miller's Lexus." Dean said absently. Sam smiled and as he walked by his brother he patted him on the shoulder. Dean looked up and watched his brother hurry to the other side of the shop, tie flapping around his sides.

"What in the hell?" Dean wondered aloud. Sam hadn't voluntarily touched him in years and Sam hadn't had a hint of animosity in his voice. Dean understood why his brother won court cases, his voice alone could make someone's knees tremble, he had always thought that Sam would have made an excellent police officer, or principal of a school. He had a look and a tone to his voice that told you he meant business and you shouldn't cross him, and for the last several years, that was the only tone that came from his brother when speaking with him.

Dean scratched the back of his head and watched as Sam spoke to their father and laughed and seemed interested in the answer. For the last couple of years, since he had been with Anna, he had chip on his shoulder, a chip that firmly sealed that he knew everything and that his parents were merely something to be tolerated and shown the proper amount of affection and respect, that way he could look, to the public, like he was a good son. But as Dean watched, he realized that everything about Sam was different, his posture, his happy nature, the fact that he was actually smiling. Sam never smiled. Sam hardly ever seemed like he was in a good mood, or when he was, he didn't seem genuinely happy. Usually, his eyes always had a calculating and plotting look to them, like he was always looking for a way to make himself look good and to come out shining in the end. As Dean watched him finish speaking with their father and pat him on the back and say good-bye and turn to face Dean, he didn't see that same calculation, he saw a weight that hadn't ever been in his brother's eyes before, but they were clear, and they didn't look like they had ever held a malicious intent. They looked kind and soulful.

Sam smiled as he passed, "Bye Dean." he said and left without any other parting words. Dean shook his head, confused and bewildered by his brother's actions, they were so unlike him, yet Dean wasn't going to complain. Perhaps getting out of the city and away from Anna had something to do with his new attitude. Maybe it had something to do with the conversation they had had a couple of weeks ago. Dean didn't know. All he knew was that he was enjoying the change. It made things so much easier when they had to occupy the same space, the same town, the same room. Dean actually found himself wondering if he and Sam could eventually have a friendship and eventually a brother relationship. Dean sighed and hoped.

The bell over the door tinkled and Dean looked up and Missouri Mosely stepped through. When he was a kid, it was a right of passage to go to her shop and do something not nice to her. Andrew toilet papered her trees, Sean had egged her car, and Dean was supposed to leave dog crap on her door step. Dean wasn't able to do that to someone. He just didn't have that in him. But he had wanted to pass the initiation, wanted to belong. So, he filled his bag with something, that definitely wasn't dog crap so he could show his friends and allow them to think that it was. Once that portion of the initiation was complete, he went to her house and just as he was about to knock on her door she opened it. Her dark eyes pierced through him and she saw his soul. She smiled. "You were going to leave cookies on my door step?" she asked indicating the bag in his hand. Dean, looking sheepish, nodded and handed her the bag. "Chocolate chip, my favorite. Come in. Let's have some of these together."

Dean remembered stepping into her house and she threatened to whack him with a spoon if he didn't come into the kitchen and share the cookies with her. The two of them shared the cookies, milk and themselves for an hour. When he left he had a new respect for the woman. She knew him just by listening, not just his mind, but his voice. She was someone who didn't appreciate being treated like a freak, but accepted that it was her lot in life so when something joyously unexpected turned up on her doorstep, like a little boy with cookies, she took advantage of the moment.

Dean had benefited from her invitation two fold. First, he was regarded by the other boys in the class as a hero because he had braved the woman's home, and second he had gained a friend in the woman. She was someone he could ask advice of and she would be blunt and frank with him, there was never any bull shit with her. He had visited her once a month and brought cookies for them to share for years. But once the drugs twisted him, he didn't go back, he couldn't handle the bluntness any longer. He hadn't seen her in ten years. So when he saw her walk through that door, he immediately wanted to hide. He was so different now.

"Dean." She said with a smile. "You grew tall boy." He gave a sheepish smile and ducked his head. "Handsome too."

"Now isn't the time to start lying Missouri."

"You are still beautiful on the inside." He shrugged.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"My car is making a funny noise. Can you listen to it for me?"

"I can." He said and limped out from behind the counter and started to limp his way to her car. She took his arm and started to guide him. He smiled at the help, and for the first time welcomed it.

"Sometimes even big strong men need a woman to guide them." She smiled and patted his shoulder. She stopped and her face fell. Dean looked down at her perplexed.

"What's the matter Missouri?"

"Who was the last person to touch you?" She asked, her voice worried.

"I don't know." he said and shrugged.

"Think."

The urgency in her voice made him think and he realized that the last person to touch him was, "Sam." He said quickly.

"Sam. Your brother Sam?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Something's wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Has Sam been acting strangely?"

"Well, he's been happier."

"Have his eyes flashed dark?"

"No." Dean was growing more and more confused with each question.

"Have you smelled sulfur?"

"What? No. What are you talking about Missouri?"

"Just listen to me. You need to keep an eye on your brother. Something isn't right. I don't know what it is, but there is something terribly not right. He doesn't belong here."

"He just got a job here. He's trying to fit back in."

"No. He doesn't belong here at all. He can't change things. He can't do that. If he does he will destroy everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"Trust me. Trust me. Stop him."

"Stop him from doing what?"

"You'll know." Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion, he knew that he should trust Missouri, but this order didn't make sense. How was he supposed to follow an order he didn't understand?


	21. Faith

The cordless phone never seemed to be in a convenient location. Never. Ever. Even when Dean was a teenager, the cordless phone would be under sofa cushion, one time his mom found it in the refrigerator, she was still trying to pin that one on Dean, Dean and Sam both knew that was their dad, he did it, and refused to fess up to it, but still the phone had been in the refrigerator. So, it should have been absolutely no surprise that as soon as the phone started ringing, he would be sitting at his computer looking up psychic premonitions, trying to figure out what in the world Missouri had been trying to tell him, with no phone beside the computer, and once he struggled to get up, and started on the great American cordless phone hunt, and found it, on the bathroom sink (what exactly had he been doing for it to end up there?) the phone stopped ringing. He sighed. Exhausted. Even with the extended amount of rings, he wasn't able to locate the thing in time to answer it.

"Damn leg." He mumbled and took the phone with him back to the computer. As soon as he sat down, fingers poised above the keys, his cell phone rang. He sighed and put his head down on the computer desk. Stupid thing was in the kitchen charging. He stood and his leg about gave way underneath him, he sighed, grabbed a hold of the desk and forced himself back up. He made it to the kitchen and to the phone just in time.

"Hello?" he asked breathlessly. His voice was horse with the effort of running around the house looking for phones.

"Dean?"

"Kelly?"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Where are you?"

"Home?"

"You didn't answer your phone."

"I couldn't find it."

"Oh." Silence on the other end of the phone. Dean furrowed his brows and tried to keep his breathing nice and even. He rested against the counter, taking weight off of his bad leg, he couldn't brave another trip to the other side of the room just yet.

"You okay Kelly? Is Adam okay?"

"We're both fine." She said and then paused again.

"Didn't the money come?"

"What? Oh. Yeah. Money came. That's not why I'm calling."

"What is it then? You never call."

"How would you like to see Adam this Thanksgiving instead of waiting until Christmas?" His stomach immediately dropped, his eyes stung, and it was his turn to go mute. The plan was Christmas, he had been planning on Christmas, his first scar removal surgery was the day after Thanksgiving, he wanted to look decent, he wanted to feel decent the first time he saw his son. And here she was giving him the opportunity to see his son a whole month early, the opportunity he most certainly didn't want to give up, but on the other hand he wasn't sure if he was ready for yet. His son had met him as that busted up guy down the street, he knew him as some stranger that looked horrible and couldn't even take care of his own lawn, needed a child to help him. Dean didn't know if he wanted his son to know that had been him. How would he react to that? Would he be scared? Horrified? Would he hide behind his mother's legs? Would he ask Sam if he could be his dad instead? That last one made him just about want to puke.

"Dean?" Kelly asked. "Dean? You still there?"

Dean cleared his throat, "I'm here."

"What's the matter?"

"I just don't know Kelly."

"What do you mean?" she asked without a hint of hostility.

"I don't know if the first time I actually get to spend time with my son if I want him to see me like this."

"Dean…"

"Don't you dare tell me it's not that bad. I look in a mirror every single day. I know exactly what I look like."

"Dean, he wants to meet you." That stopped Dean cold.

"What? He say that to you?"

"I gave him the gift that you sent for him. I told him it was from you. Told him about the night he was born, and how you held him, and wouldn't let him go." Tears started to roll down Kelly's face. That night had been so precious. They had been a family.

The same memory clouded Dean's mind. It had been one of the few days he had been clean, and he treasured those memories. Adam had been so little, so precious, and Dean had let all of that go for some cheep thrill. He had been such an idiot.

"And after I told him all of that, gave him the gift, he has been asking if you feel better now, asking if he can meet you, asking if he can spend time with you. He isn't going to care what you look like Dean."

"I don't want to scare him." Dean said softly.

"Your mom said he already saw your face."

"He did."

"Did he run?"

"No."

"Did he scream?"

"No."

"Then why do you expect him to do it this time?"

"I don't know." Dean said unable to articulate his fears.

"So what do you think?"

"I don't know Kelly."

"What the hell Dean?" Kelly suddenly blew up.

"What?"

"You've wanted to see your kid since you got clean. You've asked, pleaded, whatever. And now that I give you the opportunity, ahead of schedule, you act like you don't want it. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What? Kelly. You gave me a set date. I've been preparing myself for it. I have surgery scheduled…."

"Are you just worried about your appearance? God nothing has changed since high school."

"Kelly! This isn't just some bad hair cut! What the hell?"

"Your son won't care if you are black and blue with purple spots."

"Oh yeah! He's gonna take one look at me and then look at my perfect brother and then ask you if Sam can be his dad. I know it! And what makes it even more pathetic is that I won't blame the kid. I want to see my son more than you will ever understand Kelly. I just don't want my heart broken when he doesn't want the broken man to be his father."

"Have faith." She said softly.

"Faith! Yeah. Faith! I'll have faith when people start having some faith in me."

"I have faith in you. That's why this phone call is even happening. I have faith that you love your son, that you are keeping yourself together, and that I can trust you to be around Adam. I'm putting a lot of faith in you Dean. That should be enough." Dean swallowed.

"Kelly…"

"Dean. Life doesn't get better unless you let it." Dean licked his suddenly dry lips and looked down at his bare feet. Was she right? Was that part of the problem? He wasn't letting his life get better?

"Yes. I want to see my son."

"Okay." She said softly. "We'll be at your mom's for dinner."

"Okay."

"Bye Dean."

"Bye." He hung up the phone with shaking hands and ran a hand through his hair and then down his face. The time had come. He was finally going to get his son back.


	22. Buttons

Buttons had never seemed like an obstacle before. Never had he thought buttoning up a shirt was difficult, but here today, it was almost impossible. His hands were shaking so hard, that the little round piece of plastic just refused to go inside the small slit it was designed to enter. Dean sighed and lay back down on the bed. He refused to go to his mother's not dressed for dinner, he refused to go looking like a slob, he refused to go and ask his mother for help. Today he was going to see his son, learn how to be a father to him, and that did not include having his mother button his shirt for him. That is not what fathers did. He sighed, ripped his glasses off of his face and threw them onto the bed. He rubbed his face and tried to get a grip on himself.

Just as he was about to sit up, put his glasses back on, and tackle those pesky buttons, his cell rang. Unable to make out what the display said he answered it.

"Hello."

"Dean?"

"Sam?"

"You okay?"

"Fine. Why?"

"You sound upset." That caught Dean off guard. Sam hadn't ever been in tune with him enough to notice when he was upset, scared, happy, sad, or anything else. With each and every single passing day Sam just grew more and more strange. And honestly, Dean didn't always mind it, he wasn't a bastard anymore and that was a plus, but this complete and total personality switch was, at the very least, disconcerting.

"Not exactly upset. Just frustrated. No big deal. What do you need? Mom need me to bring something?"

"No. I was just going to be passing by your house and wondered if you wanted me to pick you up, I mean you probably don't want to be exhausted when you get there." Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Sam." He said in a flat tone.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"You have been way too nice to me lately. What in the hell is going on?"

Hazel Eyes stopped and realized that he had crossed the line. He had reverted back to how he normally spoke to Dean. He heard the distress in his voice and that did it. That made him go into that protective mode. He silently cursed himself. "Let's just say that I've had a change of heart."

"How about a change of personality?"

"Are you trying to pick a fight? On Thanksgiving? The day you get to meet your son for the first time, really and truly meet him? You really want to start a fight that will last all day?"

Dean sighed and reached for his glasses and put them back on. "No." He paused. "No. No. I don't want that. But, Sam, you have to admit you are being really nice to me. I don't understand it. I really don't."

"We're family." He said before he could think. He smacked his hand against the steering wheel when he realized what he said.

"Yeah, we are." Dean said slowly. "But that hasn't ever made you want to be nice to me before."

"It's Thanksgiving Dean. I just decided…" Hazel Eyes didn't know how to continue. If the man he was talking to was his Dean, he would have said that he just realized that he was being a dick and that he was sorry. But, there was a lot of hurt between Sam and Dean, and Hazel Eyes just didn't know how to continue, didn't know how to heal the rift that the idiot had made with his brother.

"It's Thanksgiving, and you what? Woke up this morning and realized that you have been a pain in the ass for years? And that NOW, for no real reason, you want to be nice to me, pick me up so I don't have to walk six houses and be tired? Even though less than three months ago, you watched me struggle to get out of my car, and didn't come to help me across the street. And that perhaps, even though I've been a horrible brother, that you just might find it in your heart to forgive me? Is that what I am understanding?"

Hazel Eyes struggled to come up with an answer that would be palatable to this Dean. One that would make sense. He couldn't come up with anything, so he said what he really felt. "Yeah. I just want to have a brother." He bit the "again" that was sitting on the edge of his tongue.

"Seriously?" Dean asked not believing most of what he was hearing.

"Seriously." Dean fell silent on the other end. He looked down at his shaking hands, looked at the buttons on his blue dress shirt, and decided that maybe, just maybe, he and Sam could form some kind of familial relationship.

"Come on in, the house is unlocked." Dean said finally.

Hazel Eyes let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and nodded, tried to swallow the lump in his throat away, licked his lips and finally said. "I'll be there in a minute Dean."


	23. Fathers and Sons

Hazel Eyes arrived at Dean's home and found that his brother had managed to get dressed and was actually sitting on his couch waiting for him to get there. Hazel Eyes let himself in as instructed, coaxed Dean off of the couch and did everything in his power to keep himself from extending a hand to help him, because Sam wouldn't have helped him. Hell Hazel Eyes knew that he had already planted the seed of suspicion in Dean's mind by even being here. But he couldn't help it, he simply couldn't stand to watch Dean walk down the street and come inside looking exhausted and nervous, and have to face his son like that. It was bad enough sneaking glances at his brother and seeing the telltale signs of his nervousness.

The boys arrived at their parent's house and Sam went into the kitchen with his mother and Dean went immediately into the living room with his father and watched football. It seemed as if this position was natural for the family. Hazel Eyes had hoped so because he had waited his whole life to get to know his mother beyond the phrase "I'm sorry". And just as told by all of the guys he had known in college, he was immediately put to work, reaching for things off of the high shelves, asked to stir concoctions as his mother ran around the kitchen trying to put everything together. It warmed him. Completely warmed him to be his mother's gopher for the day.

"Now Sam, when your grandmother comes, you can't do to Dean what you did last time. He's going to be nervous enough with Adam here; we don't need you stirring the pot."

"Mom."

"Really Sam, we can't have you starting anything today. Dean doesn't need it. I don't need it." She said sternly. Hazel Eyes nodded and lowered his gaze.

"Okay." He sighed. "I promise to be nice." The door in the kitchen opened and Kelly stepped through, dish in hand, and a little boy with Dean's big green eyes in tow.

"Hey Mary! Happy Thanksgiving!" She said with a smile. Adam, normally rambunctious, stood stock still and looked up at his towering uncle. "Go say hi to grandma." Kelly coaxed. Adam moved forward and went to his grandmother and she picked him up and hugged him.

"My goodness, you are getting to be so heavy!" Mary said and kissed him."

"Is my daddy here?" he asked softly into her ear.

"He sure is."

"Where?"

"He's in the living room with grandpa." The little boy nodded and Kelly and Mary exchanged looks over the boy's head. "Do you still want to meet him?" Mary asked quietly. Adam nodded.

"Yeah." He said softly.

"Well we need to get your coat off first." Adam nodded and Mary got the boy's coat off and handed it to his mother. "You look handsome." Mary said. "Just like your daddy when he was your age." Mary said softly allowing her mind to be taken back to the days before drugs, before grand children, before everything, when her eldest and youngest were as thick as thieves. When everyone was still so innocent and nothing bad had touched her little family.

In the living room, Dean had heard Kelly's voice, and knew that Adam was with her. His palms started to sweat. He looked at his father who smiled sadly and nodded, encouraging his eldest to get up and go to the child in the kitchen. Dean struggled to get up, and struggled into the kitchen. He entered and the boy seemed to feel his presence, seemed to be compelled to turn in his direction.

"Adam?" Dean asked softly. The boy turned his head to the side in a question.

Looking up at his mother and grandmother he said, "Grammy that is the guy who fell in his yard."

"Yeah, baby he is. He's also your daddy." Adam turned back to the broken and scarred man standing in the doorway. He moved his little legs and hurried towards him. He stopped inches from his father's shoes and looked up.

"Hi." He said softly. Dean lowered himself painfully to the floor and knelt in front of the kid.

"Hi." Both sets of green eyes starred at each other, both trying to figure out what to say, and how to react. Dean worried that his appearance would scare the little boy, and the boy trying to figure out if what his trusted uncle said was true.

Dean licked his suddenly dry lips, trying to keep himself from crying. He didn't want to mess this up. Didn't want his son to run away screaming.

"Where have you been?" Adam finally asked.

"What?"

"I'm 7. Where have you been?"

"I've been sick." Dean fought the tears.

"Real bad sick? That's what mommy says."

"Yeah," Dean's voice cracked. "Yeah, real bad sick."

"Are you better now?" Dean struggled to speak, but he could only nod. He bit his bottom lip and forced the tears back.

"I'm better now. I promise."

"Uncle Sammy says that you are a bad man."

"I used to be."

"You aren't anymore?"

"No. I wanted to be a good person for you."

"For me?"

"Yeah. I wanted to meet you. I want to be your daddy." The little boy seemed to take that information in and consider it.

"Mommy says you gave me the logs."

"Yeah. I loved playing with them when I was your age. I just…I don't know…thought that maybe you would like them too." Adam nodded.

"Do I call you dad?" he bluntly asked.

"Only if you want to." Dean said and looked up at his mother and ex-girlfriend in relief. "Or you can call me Dean. It is up to you kid." Adam nodded. The two locked eyes again and continued to stare. Hazel Eyes marveled at how similar the two looked, how similar the two were handling the situation.

"Dean," Mary said breaking the moment, startling everyone, her eyes wet, voice thick.

"Yeah mom?"

"It's time to eat." She said softly. The phrase seemed out of place, in the tension filled kitchen, but it was just what was needed to set life back in motion. Hazel Eyes tried to, inconspicuously, wipe the tears from his eyes, and take a dish from his mother.

John who had been watching the scene from behind started to come and help his eldest off of the floor.

"No! Grandpa. I can't do it. I'm a big boy now. I'm seven. I can help my daddy up." Dean's breath hitched at the title. Adam reached his little hands out and put both of them in Dean's much larger ones and pulled with all of his might, Dean struggled to get up under his own steam, and he did, triumphantly.

"Thanks Adam." Adam nodded and raced to the dining room.

"I get to sit by Dean!" Hazel Eyes caught Dean smile. It was the happiest he had seen him in a long time.


	24. Old Life Collides with the New

As if sensing that food was about to be on the table, John's mother arrived, kisses and hugs were exchanged until she saw Dean. Her eyes narrowed and she huffed as she took Adam in her arms and squeezed the young child.

"I'll go get the rolls," Dean said and hurried off into the kitchen to complete the task.

"How is my little man?" she asked Adam and didn't notice that his eyes were busy tracking the figure retreating into the kitchen.

"I want down." he said and squirmed in the older woman's arms. She put Adam down and he scurried to the kitchen following Dean. Martha looked confused as she watched the young boy follow Dean.

"You didn't tell him that Dean was his father did you Kelly?"

Kelly straightened feeling her decision coming under fire and not liking it in the least. Defiance, one of the many things that Dean fell in love with when they were young, seeped into her brown eyes. "I did."

"Kelly. He doesn't need to know that."

"He wanted to know."

"But that doesn't mean that he needs to. You are his mother. You are the one who dictates who he sees and knows and who he doesn't."

"Dean is his father."

"But do you really want him to know that he comes from a drug addict?"

"Dean has been clean for months now."

"Months. He was using for---" Dean heard every single word. He tried to not let it bother him. Tried not let his pain show on his face. Adam was right next to him, and he didn't need to show his son how weak he was, how insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

"Dean?" Adam asked. Dean opened his eyes and looked down at the little boy at his side.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice rough with feeling. Dean knew that Adam was hearing the same things that he was hearing.

"When I was sick last year, Tommy Higgins gave me the chicken pox. I didn't like them." Dean nodded. "I cried and yelled at mommy when she wouldn't let me scratch them. They itched. I didn't like it." Dean nodded again, not quite sure where the little boy was going. "But mommy wasn't mad at me when I got better. She said that when we are sick we…we…don't act like us. That we do bad things when we are sick because we hurt."

"Your mom is a smart lady."

"Great Grammy isn't so smart." Dean realized suddenly what his son just said. He was trying to comfort his father against the harsh words being slung at him in the next room. Dean, emotions all ready frayed, blinked rapidly trying to keep the tears out of his eyes and nodded.

"We better get these to the table."

"Grandma." Dean stopped at Sam's voice. "I think we need to lay off of Dean for today."

"Samuel. I thought, you of all people understood. What he did—"

"Today is Thanksgiving. He's been allowed to see his son for the first time in years. I think we should give him a break today."

"Thank you Sam." Dean said softly under his breath. Dean and Adam emerged from the kitchen and put the rolls on the table. Adam plopped right down in between his father and mother a grin spreading from ear to ear.

Despite Martha shooting Dean dirty looks all evening the day was wonderful. Dean was sad when it came to an end. Adam had fallen asleep on his lap, and he stroked the child's hair while they watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ and when the movie ended, Kelly took the sleeping child from Dean's lap, and whispered that she needed to go. Dean nodded, got up and helped her swaddle the sleeping child in his coat and he closed the car door for her once she was inside, and watched them drive away.

Sam was behind him and startled him when he spoke. "You ready to go home?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Come on. Let's say good bye to mom and dad."

Sam helped Dean out of the car and he followed his brother inside his house to make sure he was all right.

"Are you okay Sam?" Dean asked suddenly turning around, his eyes were confused and slightly suspicious.

"What?" he asked.

"I mean, you've been so nice to me lately. This isn't like you. You have been acting funny. You defended me this afternoon, and now you are carting me to and fro? You wouldn't let me in your precious car for years, because I might get a taste for the stereo system or something and steal it. Now, you don't even question. You didn't have a fit about me meeting Adam. And not too terribly long ago you were telling him that I was a loser and a bad man. Seriously Sam. What happened?"

Hazel Eyes should have known. Should have realized that he was changing too quickly for Dean. Dean wasn't stupid, he didn't care what incarnation of his brother he was speaking to, he wasn't stupid, but Hazel Eyes' overwhelming need to be close to his brother again, to be right there with him, to have the bond that he was used to, had taken over so completely that he made mistakes, moved too quickly and done things that Sam would never have done for Dean.

"Well…." That was when a blinding white light overcame his vision. He saw a woman, she was sitting in a motel room, quietly, and then the gun came up and she put the barrel inside her mouth, she shot. When Sam came to he was on the floor, clutching his head. God it hurt. He hadn't had a vision in two years, he had almost forgotten how much they hurt. When his vision cleared he realized that he was on the floor and Dean was kneeling, probably painfully, in front of him, holding his shoulders.

"Sam! Sam! You okay? Talk to me. You need me to call 9-1-1?"

"No." Sam croaked out, the sound almost inaudible, but it echoed through his head like he had shouted. "I'm okay."

"The hell you are. You just collapsed. You aren't okay."

"I'm fine." Hazel Eyes struggled to sit up. Struggled to get up, his vision swam, and his head ached, and he desperately wished to be able to hear Dean say "I got you Sammy. I got you."

"I have to go." Sam said. "I have to go." He repeated and headed for the door.

"Sam! You can't drive in that condition!" The last fell on deaf ears and a closed door as Sam left his house.


	25. Storm's Coming

Dean struggled to get up, and he cursed his knee, cursed his accident, cursed everything he could think of as he forced one foot underneath his body, grabbed a table, and pushed himself up off of his knees. He stumbled forward and fell on his stomach.

"Damnit!" he cursed loudly. His dog, who was in the garage, started barking loudly at the sound of his master's voice. Dean, angry, pushed his upper body up and struggled once again to get to his feet. This time, after his arduous struggle upright again, he was slower in his movements, and his knees buckled and he put his hand against the wall and steadied himself.

"God!" He exclaimed as he struggled to take a few steps in the direction of the phone, his little brother was in trouble, something inside him sensed that. He felt like he should know the cause, felt like he should be beside him right now, forcing him to stay stationary. It wasn't like he and Sam had been best friends at any point in their lives. When Sam had been little, they had been playmates, and the potential for friendship had always been there, but friends and social circles separated them early on, so Dean had no reason to feel like he should be beside his brother and helping him.

He let go of the wall to grab the phone, and his battered and tired leg refused to hold his weight any longer. He collapsed, fell, hit his shoulder against the computer desk, and landed on his ass with a thud. The phone, his prize, however, was still triumphantly in his hand. Breathing heavy, he dialed Sam's cell. No answer. "Damn it Sammy." He mumbled and tried again. No answer. One more time. No answer. He wasn't even getting his voice mail. His stomach soured. There was more wrong here than met the eye. He could feel it. Something inside him told him that Sam should not be out alone. Should not be facing whatever he was facing alone. Was this why Sam was being nicer to him? Could Sam be facing something like a cancerous brain tumor, was that why he was being so different, acting different, different mannerisms, new job, ditching that pretty little thing? Could that be the reason for the changes?

Dean's stomach clenched tighter. He dialed his parent's number. One ring. Two rings. "Come on mom! Come on Dad! Sam's in trouble."

"Hello?"

"Mom." Mary pushed herself off of John's lap. John gave her a questioning glance.

"Dean? What's the matter?"

"I think something is wrong with Sam."

"What are you talking about baby?"

"Sam had this like…I don't know….migraine…something like that….and he just collapsed, and he couldn't or wouldn't speak. He just was breathing really heavily and he wasn't answering me or anything. I was screaming at him Mom. He wouldn't answer. Then he just sort of like came back into himself. Kinda came back. And all he said was that he was leaving. Mom, I couldn't get off of the floor to stop him. He just took off. I think we need to find him. Mom. Tell Dad."

"Have you tried calling him?" Dean sighed exasperated like his mother had just asked what color shirt Sam was wearing.

"Yes. Of course I tried calling him. Three times. He isn't answering. Voice mail isn't picking up either." Mary moved the mouth piece away from her mouth and turned to John.

"Sam's sick."

"He was fine when he left."

"Dean says that he collapsed while he was at Dean's. Dean is worried, can't get a hold of him. You need to go looking for him." John nodded and pushed himself off of the couch. "Baby. Your dad is looking for him." She heard her eldest let out a steadying breath.

"Good."

"Which way did he go?" John asked indicating that Mary should ask Dean.

"Which way did he go Dean?"

Dean licked his lips and thought. "I don't know. I wasn't facing the window. I was in the other direction. I didn't see him turn on his headlights and I don't' know which way he went."

"He doesn't know." Mary related to John.

"How much time has he had?"

"I don't know." Dean said without his mother having to repeat his father's question. "I couldn't get up. Damnit mom, I couldn't get up, and then I fell. I just couldn't….he's been gone a little more than ten minutes. I think."

"Ten minutes John."

"Does he want me to pick him up?"

"Tell him to just go. I'll just hold him up. Mom you go too. You need to find Sam. I know you have to." Mary had never heard this level of panic in her oldest son's voice before. It shook her to the core. Even when he was getting clean, and his body was betraying him, there wasn't this level of anxiety in his voice. It made her move more quickly, made her nervous as well.

"We're going." She said as she pulled on her slippers that were next to the couch. "We'll find him sweetie."

"Call me." Dean said worriedly.

"I will. I will." Dean hung up and sank against the wall. His hands were shaking as badly as they were when he was getting sober. He ran a hand down his face. Sam needed him. He was out there, and he needed him. He had to help him. He had to find him.

Hazel Eyes drove, head pounding, eyes burning, phone against his ear, looking for the girl who he saw in the window destroying her life and the lives of those who loved her. Hazel Eyes was so frustrated; he thought when he threw Sam into his world that he wouldn't have to deal with this, the demon blood, the visions, the powers, any of it. He thought that everything would be okay again. Little did he know that by stepping into this world he introduced all kinds of evil into it, and was slowly altering the path and the lives of the world he was not occupying. Storm's coming and he didn't even have a coat.


	26. Silly Sammy

Hazel Eyes drove with a fury that only crazy men possess. The house that he saw was on the outskirts of town. He knew of the house, passed it on his way out of town to meet a client. It was a shabby little house tucked far away from the road, surrounded by farm land and trees, on a road infrequently traveled. Sam pulled into the long drive and almost got out of the car before it stopped. He saw the woman, just like in his vision, in the second story window, and he saw the gun in her hand. He kicked open the door, like he had so often seen his brother do, and ran up the stairs, taking two, sometimes three at a time and screaming for the woman to stop.

He threw open the door and his hair blew from his face with the force of it. Inside he saw her, shivering, tears streaming down her face, the gun in hier hand on its way to her mouth.

"Please leave me alone." She sobbed uncaring that a total stranger had not only invaded her home, but invaded her bedroom.

"No. No. You can't do this."

"Why? No one cares about me." She stated jerkily.

"Because there are people who care about you."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because, even if there is one only one person." His eyes began to blur with his own tears. 'Just one You can't leave that one person behind. They will m…" he licked his lips and tried to reign in his emotions. "That one person will miss you so much that it will tear them apart."

The sobbing woman's tears suddenly stopped as if the leaky faucet was finally fixed, and the last few trickled down her face and dripped off of her chin. A sadistic smile crept over her beautiful features.

"Is that what Dean's death did you Sam?" Hazel Eyes' eyes widened.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you remember me Sammy?" Sam stood and slowly took a step back. She stood and took a sultry step closer to him. She started him down and backed him up against the wall, put her arms on either side of him, pressed some of that supernatural barrier that demons were good at using to keep the Winchester brothers in place against the wall, and she stood on her toes and kissed him. "Your lips are so soft."

"Lilith." He exhaled.

"I knew you'd remember my kiss. She laughed. "Once you go demon. You never go back." Sam swallowed and shame blushed across his cheeks.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, Sammy…" she giggled. "Did you think you could use demonic powers to escape, and we not find you." The giggling started again and the little girl giggle seemed so out of place in the face of the woman before him. "You are so silly Sam."

"Why bother following me? Huh? My brother is in H…He…" Sam swallowed. "Hell. I can't get him out…" the statement hurt more than he ever imagined. The alcohol he had drown himself in the days after his brother's death sounded really good right about now. "I couldn't save him." He swallowed thickly. "I'm not there to bother you. You can do whatever you want. Raise hell on Earth. You can have it all. I just want to be let alone. I'm not hunting." He was pleading and he knew it. He simply wanted her to go away. She had taken everything from him. He didn't have anything else left to give.

"Oh Sammy. Silly silly Sam. You should have stayed back with your whore Ruby. You should have learned how to use your powers."

"What?"

"Oh Sammy." Her laughter tinkled like bells on a Christmas tree. "Why would I stop at one world when I could rule two? Why would I stop at torturing one Dean in hell when I could have two and one is so much easier to break. This one, the Dean who is broken and mangled, he would be so much easier to turn. Your brother, the Dean that went to hell for you, he's been so uninteresting. He just lets us cut into him. Lets us rip at him and tear. He refuses to break. But this Dean." She shuddered. "Oh he will be so easy." She giggled. "And because you have let your powers go unused, you won't be prepared to do anything. You've brought hell down on two Dean Winchesters." She laughed again. "And there isn't anything you can do this time either." The giggle ended and the woman opened her mouth and black smoke erupted from her mouth and fled out of the window. Hazel Eyes knelt down next to the woman and realized that she was already dead. He picked up his cell and dialed Dean's number.


	27. Betrayed Bewildered Humiliated

"_**David, we have no choice. The demons are coming. We can't go back on this!" Simon yelled at his stubborn idiotic brother.**_

Dean picked up his cell phone and checked it. Made sure it was on and that it hadn't vibrated while he was working. Sam hadn't called, his parents hadn't found him, Dean was starting to get panicked. He put the phone down and forced himself to channel his energy into working on his story.

"_**I don't want you to do it. I won't let you do it!"**_

"_**How are you going to stop me?!"**_

"_**I'm older. You'll do as you're told!"**_

"_**I'm not 10 anymore David! I'll do whatever in the hell I want to!"**_

"_**Over my dead body will you do this!"**_

Dean stopped again and looked at the phone, picked it up, opened it, closed it, rolled it around in his hand, checked the clock on the computer, took a deep breath. "He's fine. He's been fine without you for years. Why should today be any different? Why are you worried today?" he asked himself. He put the phone down and took a deep breath and continued.

"_**I am doing this. I don't care."**_

"_**You could get hurt!"**_

"_**More people could get hurt if I don't do this. Just say what you really mean David."**_

"_**What do I really mean?"**_

"_**You're afraid I won't be hum-"**_ His cell phone started to ring. Dean grabbed it frantically.

"Sam?!"

"Dean….I-----"

"You okay?"

"Dean,"

"You all right?"

"Dean! Listen to me! I'm fine. I'm fine. I need you to do something. I need you to not ask questions and just do this."

"What?"

"I need you to put a line of salt down at all of your windows and doors."

"What in the hell are you talking about Sam?"

"Please. Please Dean. I need you to do that for me."

"You are crazy."

"Let's skip the crazy speech, shall we. Just put the salt down. I'm on my way there. Don't let anyone in your house. Not even Mom and Dad. Not Kelly, not Adam. Let absolutely no one inside your house other than me."

"Sam." Dean said skeptically. "What's wrong with you?" Sam let out a strangled chuckle.

"More than you will ever want to know."

"Sam. Do you have a brain tumor or something?" Dean asked focusing on one of his earlier ideas.

"What? Brain tumor? What the hell? No Dean. I do not have a brain tumor."

"Then what is happening?"

"You wouldn't understand if I told you."

"Try me."

"No. I'm not telling you anything. The more you know the more dangerous this becomes."

"Sam?"

"Just spread the damn salt. Just do it. I'll be there within the hour. Go nowhere. Let no one in. Call no one. Just…" Sam, frustrated, tried to come up with another word. "Just don't move." He finally came up with and turned the phone off and threw his cell in the passenger seat and pressed harder on the accelerator.

"Fuck!" he yelled and pounded his fist against the steering wheel. This wasn't going like he planned. All he had wanted was a reality in which his brother was alive, his parents were alive, and he could fit himself into their world, become the lawyer, get married, have kids, and have his brother, without scars—both emotional and physical, and there be no threat looming over his head. No possibility that a demon would be coming for Dean, that he would never have to watch his brother be shredded by hell hounds, and never have to be forced to stand, pinned against the wall, helpless and unable to help his brother, unable to stop the demon, unable to do anything but yell and scream at them to stop.

Sam Winchester would not let his brother die twice. Not in this lifetime. Not again. Never again.

Dean hung up his cell phone and shook his head at the absurdity of the conversation that he just had with his brother. "Salt?" he asked out loud. He threw his glasses onto the computer and ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Something clicked.

"Salt." Dean said suddenly sitting straight up. He turned back to his computer and looked through his favorite places, and found the link he was looking for, there right in front of him it talked about how salt kept evil things out of homes and away from the living.

"He's been reading my stuff." Dean said infuriated. "The little prick went through my computer and read what I had. He's playing with me. He's making me look like an ass for his enjoyment. How could I have been so stupid!?" Nothing changed, Sam was still out to get him, now he was just playing more elaborate games with him in order to screw with his head. Dean felt betrayed, bewildered, and humiliated. When Sam got here, bad leg or no, he was going to kill him.


	28. Emergency

Hazel Eyes threw his car into his brother's driveway, slammed the car into park, burst through the car door and ran to his brother's door, found that it was locked, cursed, stepped back, and rammed his foot through it and forced it to fling backwards with a sickening crack, splinters of wood flying in all different directions, a gun was in his hand without recollection on his part.

There was no salt line in front of the door like he had hoped and asked for. After the conversation with Dean, he had ascertained that A) he didn't believe him B) he thought he was nuts C) thought he was high and there was no way in the world that he was going to listen to his words of warning. That had actually been the reason he drove faster, shattering speed limits, and burst into Dean's home.

"Dean?" he called as casually as his worried body would allow. He moved further into the living room, the computer was on, seemed to always be on, but his brother was no where to be found. Slowly, one foot silently in front of the other, he moved to the computer, eyes swinging around the room just like Dean and his father had taught him, his gun the only thing steady.

"Dean?" he called again. In the kitchen now, he almost tripped over the corpse of Dean's old dog. "Oh God." Sam whispered and knelt down next to the dog. The poor animal's insides were on the outside, and it was hardly recognizable as anything that could have been living at one point. The blood wasn't just pooled around the carcass of the animal, it was trailing across the kitchen and into the hallway just beyond the kitchen. Sam stood again, swallowed, and followed the trail of blood. It lead him to a door that was slightly open. He kicked the door slightly with the toe of his shoe and it creaked as it was pushed in. It revealed a scene that sickened him. Hazel Eyes had seen some atrocious things in his life, but this was at the very top of his list. Dean was chained to his bed, and blood soaked the sheets, soaked his clothes, what was left of them anyway, and there was a smattering of blood on the white walls and ceiling, and it looked as if some of the blood had hit the fan and in its rotations it spread the blood like a painter would splatter paint on a canvas, flinging the paint in various directions, drops and lines, big and little, everywhere. Dean had to be dead. There was no way there was any blood left in the body. None. Hazel Eyes felt his heart clench. It was that night all over again.

It was Dean's blood everywhere and his dead green eyes starring at him, fear the last emotion that he would ever feel in the mortal world and Sam could do nothing. Wasn't strong enough, wasn't powerful enough, wasn't smart enough, wasn't enough to keep his brother living, wasn't brave enough to break the deal and allow himself to die so his brother could live, he just hadn't been strong enough. And here he was again. Same position. Same everything.

"Dean?"

"Oh he's alive Sammy." A female voice came from the other side of the room. She was covered in blood.

"You son of a bitch. He isn't a part of this."

"Oh, Lilith said he was. So I get to play with him. It is my reward for following you here."

"Who are you?"

"Sammy. You really don't remember me? I was good enough to screw, but not good enough to remember? I always heard that when you had sex with a girl you remembered them."

"Ruby." He spit out with disdain.

"There we go." She sauntered up to him, Dean's blood all over her hands, clothes, face, and lips. She smiled when she reached Sam, and she ran a hand down his face and tried to put one of her blood soaked fingers into his mouth and he grabbed her hand and threw it away from his face.

"Get the hell away from me."

"Oh, Sammy," she pouted. "But I'm just starting to have fun. This new, weaker version of Dean is so much fun to play with. You just cut a little and he screams. The other one, you know the one that is in hell because of you, well he's down there screaming, but he doesn't start screaming until something is carved out of him. It isn't as much fun. Lilith promised me that since I was such a good girl that I could play with this one until he died." She giggled like a little girl. She hugged her body for a second she was so excited. "And I'm making sure it lasts a while. I mean, when this one dies," she nodded in Dean's general direction. "He'll become a demon so easily that he won't be fun to play with in hell. So I have to get my kicks now before he goes. Wanna see what I've done to him?" Sam's whole body stood rigid, and he had the urge to snap the neck of the woman standing in front of him, but he wouldn't, he wouldn't take the life of this woman, because he had made a mistake, because he had been the one to lead this demon into her life. The anger, and the fear, and the frustration settled into his veins and his body went rock solid, and he took a deep breath, a deadly calm settled over his body.

"Leave him alone."

"No." she said with a smirk, and started back for the bed, where Dean was starting to rouse. His eyes opened and he saw her coming and he started struggling, albeit weakly, and he whimpered.

"Stop." Sam said in a loud strong voice.

"Or what?" she asked as she twirled a long thin sharp blade in her fingers. "You going to come here and stab me with my own knife." She laughed. "You didn't bring it with you. I know that for a fact. You left it for Bobby. So what are you going to do? I am most certainly not going to wait for you to exorcise me."

"You forgot what you taught me."

"Oh, honey, you aren't strong enough to pull me out of this body."

"Sam?" Dean asked softly and raised his head as much as he was able and saw his brother standing there, Dean was so confused. Why was he here?

"Oh I think I'm stronger than you know." Sam reached his hand out in front of him and focused with everything he had. Ruby rolled her eyes. Just as she was about to say something smart and sassy she felt a tickle in the back of her throat, and she began to cough. Confusion etched her features. She swallowed hard.

"You." Cough. "You can't do this." She said and the coughing turned into a fit, and black smoke began to come from her mouth. Hazel Eyes concentrated harder and blood began to free flow out of his nose and down his lips. He hadn't done this in so long that it was almost debilitating. He was out of practice, out of shape so to speak. Once here, he didn't think that he would ever have to worry about his freaky psychic crap ever again, so he hadn't practiced or thought about it in weeks. Hazel Eye's head pounded, felt like it was on fire, felt like it was going to explode, but he wasn't going to let the bitch win, he wasn't going to let her live after what she did to Dean.

With one final cough the demon smoke emerged from her mouth and the last of Ruby came out of the red head that she had inhabited, and with a shaking hand, Sam pushed her back into the pits of hell. He and the host fell to the floor with a simultaneous thump.

"Sam?" Dean called a little frantically from the bed, he began to squirm, despite the pain, despite that each movement caused spots to overcome his vision, he had to see his brother, he had to see that he was okay.

Hazel Eyes struggled for consciousness, and he achieved it, his head pounding, blood still coming from his nose. He struggled to stand, and one he did he went to Dean and surveyed the wounds on the man's body.

"She did some damage." Hazel eyes said as he looked at the slices across Dean's abdomen, chest, legs, and arms.

"What did she want Sam?"

"Me." He said and began the arduous task of picking the locks that held Dean firmly to the bed.

"What are you talking about? What? What did you do to her? What was that that came out of her mouth?" He asked hoarsely. He grimaced as Sam touched his raw wrist.

"I'm sorry." Sam started, for more things than accidentally touching raw skin. "Don't worry about it. Don't get yourself worked up."

"You okay?" Dean asked, eyes closed, face screwed up in pain.

Sam almost laughed. This Dean was as much like his brother as he was different. "Be quiet Dean. I need to get you to a hospital. I need to call 9-1-1. I have to get you safe." Hazel Eyes realized, while he was dialing, that making Dean safe may mean that he needed to go back where he came from and allow that bastard version of himself to come back to this life and continue on torturing Dean. Either way it wasn't ideal, but at least Dean wouldn't be guaranteed hell with his real brother.

"9-1-1 What is your emergency?"


	29. Truth

Frantic mothers, worried ex-girlfriends, worried fathers, and tired little boys who thought that their father was going to be too sick for them to see them again, came and went through Deans' hospital room, the only constant was Hazel Eyes. He sat by Dean's bedside every single second, he refused to be kicked out, he refused to be placated, he refused to leave. He weathered the storms of people coming in and out and finally on the third day of Dean's stay, they were alone. Granted Dean was sleeping and Hazel Eyes was sitting in the chair next to the bed worrying.

How was he supposed to explain this? What was he supposed to tell Dean? The older man had watched him pull a demon from a girl, he had been tortured by the girl, he had seen more than any civilian should see. If Dean asked, and Hazel Eyes was fairly certain he would, he would have to tell the truth, reveal the dark to this man who had never been exposed to the dark, who didn't deserve to be exposed to the dark, who had been forced, because he had been selfish and wanted a life with Dean in it, with his parents in it, and he had managed to screw up Dean's life again. Hazel Eyes sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're still here Sammy?" Dean asked as he started to push himself up into a sitting position.

"Don't get up. Let me move the bed for you."

"Ahhhh, I'm good." He said as he struggled a little more. Once in the desired position, he turned to Hazel Eyes, and he knew the look, that look meant that Dean was about to ask the hard questions, and he expected answers, honest answers, and he would know if he was being lied to.

"So, you want to explain what exactly you did to that girl?" Dean asked.

"You don't really want to know."

"I think I really do want to know."

"I don't think I want to tell you."

"I don't care if you want to tell me or not." Dean said in the dark surrounding him. His voice was even, calm, even reassuring to a degree. "I deserve to know why some chick busted into my house, well, no, wait, she just sort of showed up in my house, killed my dog, drug me into my bedroom, tied me to my bed, and sliced me up. That, Sam, is something I most certainly think I deserve to know.

Hazel Eyes looked away from the man in the bed and studied his fingernails trying desperately to find a way to say what he needed to say.

"Sam?" Dean said in a warning tone.

Hazel Eyes licked his lips and looked up at the man who he wished was his brother. "I pulled a demon out of that girl. A demon that tricked me and followed me here and wants to destroy you too."

"Demon?"

"Yeah. That black smoke that came out of her mouth was the demon. I sent it back to hell."

"Using your hand?"

"Well, my hand is just a focus. Just something to send my power through."

"Your power?"

"When I was six months old a demon bled into my mouth and he gave me abilities."

"Abilities."

"Psychic stuff at first. I had visions. They usually involved people dying because of the demon." Sam licked his lips again. "Then after my Dean died, that demon who tried to carve you like a Christmas turkey, taught me how to use the rest of my power, taught me how to pull a demon from someone and send them back to hell. Usually the person survives, but I don't think the demon wanted this girl to survive."

Dean was quiet for a long time, and Hazel Eyes shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unable to look the injured man in the eye. "So." Dean started. "You are some psychic freak?"

Hazel Eyes let out a strangled laugh. "Yeah. I am."

"And that is how you got here?"

"Yeah. I went beyond the demon's teachings and figured out how to open a door into other realities."

"You realize how crazy this sounds?"

"Dingo ate my baby crazy?"

"No. I was abducted by aliens and used for weird experiments involving toothpaste crazy."

"You don't believe me then?"

"I didn't say that. But. Seriously Sam. This sounds more and more like you've been reading my story."

"What story?"

"Don't play innocent."

"I'm not playing innocent."

"Come on Sam."

"Seriously I have no idea what you are talking about." Dean sighed in obvious frustration.

"I just don't think I believe you." Hazel Eye's stomach sunk. He had never heard those words come from his brother's mouth. Dean always believed him, even when he had been possessed, the few things he did remember were of Dean believing him and trying to help. This Dean's words felt like a lead weight in his stomach.

"You watched me pull the demon out of that girl, and you still don't believe me?"

"I don't know what I saw."

"Oh."

"Sam you are asking me to believe an awful lot. I haven't trusted you our whole adult lives and you expect me to believe you just like that? These last couple of weeks you have been acting like a different person, you act like you like me, you look at me like you are expecting something. I can only assume that you are trying to pull a fast one on me, that you have some elaborate plan ready in the wings to smack me full in the face, and then you will sit back and laugh with your yuppie friends and go back to that nasty girl."

"That isn't it at all Dean. I swear."

"Yeah, that's right, you came here from some alternate reality, and did what with my Sam? Locked him in a closet?"

"I sent him back to my world."

"Sure. Okay. And he's doing what there? Demon hunting?"

"I have no idea."

"So, saying that this crazy ass story is true, you sent my brother into a world in which he isn't equipped to deal with….why exactly?"

"Because."

"That isn't an answer." Hazel Eyes kept his mouth shut and his eyes firmly attached to the ground. "Sam." Dean demanded.

"Because I couldn't live without my brother anymore."

"Dying is a part of life Sam."

"Not the way my brother died." Dean sighed and threw his hands in the air.

"Okay. I'll play into your delusion. How did he die then?"

"He died because of me." Hazel Eyes finally raised his eyes to Dean's and told this part of the story loud and clear, his Dean deserved to have his sacrifice heard, deserved to have it told without hesitation, without any trace of anger or bitterness. Dean deserved that much. "I died, because I gave some evil son of a bitch a second chance, and my brother watched me die in his arms. He made a deal with a demon. His soul for my life. He would get one more year with me and then the demon would come and collect and take his soul to hell. So," he swallowed thickly. "I watched my brother get ripped to shreds by a hell hound. I watched him writhe on the floor in agony and I watched his blood spray across the room, down his shirt, and on his face. I heard his screams, and I was powerless to do anything about it. I couldn't even get in the hound's way to stop it. I just yelled and yelled, and watched as the last of my family died on the ground at my feet. He gave his life for me. I couldn't save him. I can't save him. I failed him."

Dean studied this man for a moment, trying to ascertain whether or the man before him was lying. Dean had seen all kinds of lying, he had practiced most of it at one point in his life or the other, so he felt that he was a pretty good judge of it in others. He searched Sam's eyes and saw the complete and utter sorrow and heart break, the guilt, and the responsibility, and the loneliness residing inside the hazel depths. This man wasn't lying.

"So you came here to do what? Kidnap me and take me back with you?"

"No. I wanted to take your brother's place."

"Take his place. Okay. Even though we don't get along?"

"That can be fixed. That doesn't matter. I can fix that."

"I see. And mom and dad?"

"Are an added bonus."

"So, you and your Dean fight demons?"

"And anything that goes bump in the night." Dean nodded.

"And again, you just threw my Sam there? Is there someone that knew where you were going and that you were going to throw my brother into this world, and that person was prepared to help him?"

"No. I…I…I didn't really think about that. I just kind of did it." Suddenly Hazel Eyes felt very stupid. Very childish. "I have to go back. I have to take the demons back with me. I'll put him back. I promise."

"What if he's hurt? Or worse dead? You leave here, and my brother doesn't return, my parents will be devastated. There are a lot of people that care about him here. You can't just do that. Didn't your parents teach you better? I know mom and dad taught us better."

Sam felt his body tingle. Dean had taught him better. Dean taught him selflessness, kindness and love, and here he was taking something that didn't belong to him, something that meant a lot to other people. "My brother did teach me better."

"Brother? Where were your parents?"

"Mom died in a house fire. She died right over my crib. My dad died selling his soul for Dean. So he would live after a nasty run in with a demon and a semi. So there was just me and Dean. He raised me. Taught me to be me. Taught me to be a man. I have so…" he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and grimaced. He stood quickly. "I have to coax her back into my world. I have to go. I'll bring back your brother. I'll…." Hazel Eyes stood and hurried towards the door.

"Sam?" Dean called out in a loud strong voice. Sam turned, tears trickling down his face.

"Yeah?"

"You two are so close that he sold his soul for you?"

"I'd sell my soul for him if I could. Hell, I left everything I knew to find you. To find someone who just simply looked like him." Dean nodded knowing the feeling, he had, in a sense, given up his life for his little brother a long time ago, but he knew for a fact that his brother would never return the favor.

"You're leaving?"

"I am."

"I'm glad I got to meet you."

"I'm glad I got to see you." There was a pregnant pause as the two starred at each other. Hazel Eyes was looking at the last living thing that looked like, sounded like, and even acted like (to a degree) his brother. And Dean was looking at the man who could have been, if his brother hadn't been so angry, so disgusted, so mortified to be his brother. Hazel Eyes opened the door, and left the room and it suddenly felt very empty.


	30. Back to Hell

Hazel Eyes returned to Dean's house, picked the lock, walked under the crime scene tape and entered the house. It smelled of blood and gore, smells that Hazel Eyes was all too familiar with and wished that he wasn't. The smell always triggered the memory of his brother on the ground writhing in agony trying not to scream as the hell hounds came for him. But since he had already relived that memory today it was fresh in his mind and he could have sworn he heard the echoes of the few screams Dean allowed to pass his lips. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and forced himself not to hear the sounds, not to smell the warm metal tinged air, not to see his brother writhing behind his closed eye lids. He swallowed thickly and started inside. He walked by the computer, accidentally banged his hip against the stand, as he was starting for the kitchen, when he noted the computer's screen saver stopped and was on a document, cursor blinking.

Curious, he came closer to the computer, noted that the document was well over 100 pages and he remembered Dean in the hospital accusing him of reading his stuff. Hazel Eyes found himself sitting down and reading the story about two brothers crisscrossing America in a 1967 Chevy Impala, fighting demons, enjoying each other's company, fighting monsters, and taking care of each other. The story was his life. His life with his Dean. The monsters, the relationship, even the clothes. It was like this Dean had a window into his life. It made his heart ache, and it made him a little…

"See what you did?" Hazel Eyes spun in the chair and was up with his knife out of his jeans in a matter of seconds.

"Who are you?"

"Oh Sammy. Who do you think?" Her eyes rolled white.

"Lilith. You can't kill me."

"Oh, I can. You are just as mortal as everyone else. And you can't kill me with that stupid little knife. You left the one that could back with that old man in your world." The two began the dance. "That story. Yeah. He can feel what you two are supposed to be. He can feel what life was supposed to be like, now that you've come and disrupted his. He started writing this just after you made the decision to come here, you know the first time, the time you came just to observe, just to see what everything was like, yeah, his world shifted when you entered it, and brought us with you."

"I didn't change anything here." She threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, my dear, sweet, stupid Sammy. You changed a lot of things when you came here. One small ripple in a pond can change the course of rivers. And you have changed the course of this river forever." She advanced on him. He backed up, suddenly realizing that the knife in his hands wasn't going to do anything, except for make the host's body bleed, and that, he decided was unacceptable. He stumbled a little and felt his back connect with the wall. She kept coming and he couldn't get away. He panicked, she had a knife of her own, and she was going to carve him like a Christmas goose. He could feel it, he could sense her intention, he panicked, and did the only thing he could think to do, he opened a portal back to his world just as she was about to lunge at him. With a sucking sound, and all encompassing blinding white light the two tumbled backwards, and fell and fell and fell for what seemed like ever until they landed on the hard wood floor of Bobby Singer's living room.

Sam, having been through the whole ordeal several times now, hurried onto his feet and away from the demon. Lilith was only confused for a moment, she shook herself and tried to chase after Sam, and she came up against the barrier in which no demon could cross.

"What the…." Lilith said as she looked around.

"Devil's trap bitch." Sam said with a smug, slightly evil, grin.

"You still can't pull me out of this body. You aren't strong enough. And you don't' have your knife, so what are you going to do, keep me here until this body rots?" She laughed. "You don't have the mojo to keep me, nor to kill me runt."

Boots on the hardwood made Sam turn, just in time to see Bobby Singer, shot gun in hand standing in the entry way to the living room.

"Sam?" he said tentatively.

"Yeah, it's me Bobby."

"You sure boy?"

"I'm sure."

"Who is that?"

"Lilith."

"You gonna kill her?"

"Don't have the stuff to kill her. I'm gonna send her back to hell though."

"Do it." Bobby said a little leery of the man standing in his living room. Sam nodded and began reciting the exorcism that he had memorized, before his powers, before Dean's death, before it all. It took hours but the bitch was exorcised. The girl that she had possessed was limp in the circle. Sam stepped through and touched her neck and found her breathing and he sighed in relief.

"She's alive." Sam said looking in the direction of Bobby.

"That's good." Bobby said coldly, Sam noted that the shot gun hadn't been lowered. "Who the hell are you really?" Bobby asked warily.

"Sam Winchester. Dean's little brother. I'll drink holy water. Anything. Whatever you need me to do to prove that I'm me."

"Kitchen." Hazel Eyes nodded and started, slowly so not to startle the older man into shooting, to the kitchen and Bobby moved to keep Hazel Eyes in his sights. "Refrigerator." He followed directions and took the bottle from the top shelf and chugged it. He finished it off, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and watched as Bobby lowered the gun.

"Which one of you is the shape shifter?"

"Neither."

"How is that possible?" He looked away from Bobby and sighed.

"I made a poor decision."

"How does that make two of you?"

"Why are you so sure there are two of us?"

"The other one, that looked like you, sounded like you, everything, was an asshole, asking stuff about where your parents were, asked about his girl, asked about his law firm. Asked all kinds of crazy questions. I tried to jog his memory, but…"

"Sam." Came a voice from the entry way. Hazel Eyes jumped and looked up. Dean. His Dean, was standing there, clean, whole, and very much alive in the doorway to the kitchen. Sam's whole body sighed in relief. He jumped up and took two large all encompassing steps to his brother.

"Dean." Sam said with tears clogging his throat. He wrapped his arms around his brother, but there was no return hug, there was no touching and when he pulled away and looked at his brother confused, he didn't look happy to see him. "Dean?"


	31. Dean

"Dean. I'm so happy to see you." Hazel Eyes said with relief.

"Wow. That's a tone switch." Dean said and backed away from his brother.

"What? What are you talking about?" Hazel Eyes asked suddenly afraid of what had happened while he was away. There couldn't possibly have been an opportunity for the other Sam to meet his brother, could there?

"Aren't you going to ask me about my scars?"

"No. No. I don't care about scars. I'm just so happy that you are back."

"Huh." Dean gave a short unamused chuckle. "Funny. When I dug myself out of my grave, and fought tooth and nail to come and find you and see you, all you could say was, 'What? You're here too? Where are your scars? You had enough of bothering poor mom and dad and now you want to annoy this guy too?" Dean's green eyes were smoldering, angry.

"Dean. I can explain."

"Of course you can Sammy. Of course you can. What, were you possessed again? I don't buy it. We got those tats to protect against that. Or, what? Did some ghost who amplified anger get up in you again. No. Well, what? How can you possibly explain to me how you were so cruel to me when I saw you again? There isn't any excuse in the world."

"Dean.." Bobby started.

"No, Bobby. No." Dean said and gave Bobby a warning look. "If you didn't want me around that badly, you could have just told me."

"Dean it wasn't like that at all." Hazel Eyes said choked, tears in his eyes, this was never how he pictured his reunion with his brother.

"Then what was it like Sam? I mean….seriously."

"It wasn't me." He said lamely.

"Oh yeah? And who exactly am I supposed to assume it was? A shape shifter? Come on Sam. Random shape shifters just don't decide to impersonate someone for the hell of it."

"It wasn't a shape shifter."

"Then what precisely was it Sam? Because if you can't come up with something. You can just get your ass out of here and I never ever want to see you again." Sam swallowed thickly. The prospect of never seeing his brother again was exactly what had landed him in this position in the first place. But the thought of Dean telling him to go away, to never come back again, froze his blood and forced the truth out of his mouth.

"I've been using my powers."

"What?"

"I…I…after you l..left. Ruby offered me revenge. Offered to teach me."

"And you took her up on it? What the hell Sam? You promised me."

"I know. But…you weren't there…"

"And that just meant to do whatever in the hell you wanted to do? Like I taught you nothing? Like I hadn't done my best by you and given up everything so you would grow up and be a good man? You just throw that away because some demon…some skank comes into your life and makes you an offer of revenge?! My God! You are so much like dad!"

"No. No. It wasn't like that." Sam tried to defend.

"Then how was it Sam? Really. Enlighten your idiot brother."

Sam licked his lips, "Umm." He cleared his throat. "I did what Ruby said I could because I couldn't do anything to get you back. I went to the crossroads, I tried, but they laughed in my face. I tried finding Lilith, I couldn't do that. I just wanted you back so badly…"

"That you now have given into your powers."

"I learned that I could do more than just pull demons out of their hosts."

"Well there you go. See, I didn't even know you could do that. Oh that's right, I spent the last four months in hell….and you were up here doing whatever the skank wanted you to do. Please continue. I want to hear what else you learned." Dean lowered himself into the chair by the kitchen table and Hazel Eyes swallowed hard.

"I learned that I could open the fabric of reality."

"Star Trek much?" Dean asked with a sigh.

"I wanted to find another reality in which you were alive. And I found one. I was so excited to see you. You were…different of course, but you were alive, and that jackass version of me treated you so poorly, and I just threw him here, I figured it didn't matter if he was here, couldn't screw up my life any more than it already was. I didn't know…"

"Sam. Come on you expect me to believe this bull shit? Really? This is a lame excuse. Just go away." Sam's eyes widened and he looked at Bobby pleading for help.

"He's right boy. That does seem a little far fetched, even for us."

"But you seemed to believe me. Didn't you see me fall through the portal and into the living room?"

"I saw something. Yes."

"It's true. Dean, Bobby you have to believe me."

"Find him. Find the other Sam. And I'll consider believing you. But until then, get the hell away from me. I have work to do." Dean stood and turned his back to his brother, and Sam dejected and tears flowing down his face, could think of nothing to make him turn around and believe him.

* * *

**AN: This is the part of the story that has been rattling around in my head for a good month now. I hope I did it justice. Thank you guys for the reviews. Remember the more reviews the quicker I write LOL! Thanks for reading my work, everyone. I truly apreciate all comments, and I'm sorry I don't have time at the second to write each one of you back. Thanks! Stacey**


	32. Searching

The most help he received was a car that Bobby loaned him and a sad look from the older man. Hazel Eyes couldn't read that look, all of his life he had had a tough time reading the older hunter, he usually deferred to Dean when dealing with Bobby, but this time Dean wasn't on his side, he was in that house, ignoring him, allowing him to go out into the world without anyone at his back, allowing the nasties of the world the opportunity to hurt him. Dean was back from Hell, back and angry with him. Never had that entered his mind when hoping for his brother back.

Sam's mind kept drifting back to seeing his brother. His color was good, so different from the dead white his skin had been when they buried him. His eyes were open and focused, moving, a soul behind them, not starring at nothing, and vacant. He was thin, but that was no matter. He looked good and Sam wished that he was right there with him, next to him making sure that he was okay, just being in his presence, just hearing his voice, talking, bantering, complaining about anything, it didn't matter, Sam just wanted to hear him talk some more. Even if it meant talking about Hell.

Sam gripped the steering wheel tightly when a thought came unbidden. Did Dean remember Hell? Sam swallowed hard and blinked quickly. If Dean did remember Hell, was he having nightmares? Were demons even more on top of him? What if Dean wasn't back whole, what if Hell kept some part of him down there and it was still suffering and causing him to suffer up here in the real world? He should have asked Bobby before he left on his quest to find this other Sam, this evil conniving son of a bitch. He had his brother, whole and with no risk of ever losing him to death and Hell and he treated him like shit, he treated him like a common criminal, treated him like he was beneath him.

Hazel Eyes became more determined with each thought about his brother. He had to find Sam, he had to take him to South Dakota to prove to Dean who he really was, and get his life back together.

Lawrence, Kansas had been a wealth of information for Hazel Eyes. It had taken him a little over a day to travel there, and he let his beard grow. Hazel Eyes decided that the best course of action to find the other Sam was to pretend that they were twins, and that they had had a rough patch a couple of months ago, and now he was on the hunt for him to tell him that their older brother was in a bad way. That, he could sell. He knew how it felt to have a brother on the chopping block and he knew that it would just take one thought of hell hounds for his eyes to water up and sell the performance nicely. And Hazel Eyes made sure that physically they didn't look the same, because others would be more inclined to believe his story if they actually didn't look EXACTLY the same.

So, he reached Kansas, got a room and began searching for the other Sam. With Hazel Eyes' hunter's instinct and Stanford trained researching skills it didn't take more than a day to locate where his "twin" was now employed. Sam had taken a job at a legal firm, doing paralegal work.

"Gotcha." Hazel said as he sat back in the desk chair and grinned. He closed his eyes and thanked God for making this one of the easiest searches he had ever conducted. He simply wanted to find this guy, show him to Dean, and send him back to his reality and get back to living, get back to his brother, get back to normal, get back to hunting, watching his brother eat disgusting garbage, watching him make a mess, watching him sleep, it didn't matter, Hazel Eyes just wanted this over with.

But, just as he thought about all of this being over, he thought of the Dean he left behind, in a hospital bed, slashed to hell because of his mistake. Thought of the amazement in the older man's eyes when he had extended kindness to him, simple things, big things, it didn't matter, that Dean looked ill equipped to handle that from his brother. Hazel Eyes' heart hurt suddenly, when he realized that he was going to send back a man who would do nothing but hurt that Dean for the rest of his life. His exuberance faded as quickly as it appeared. He looked down at his hands and cursed, he had made things so much harder, he had been a selfish son of a bitch, and look where it landed him, hurting people, people he cared for, people who cared for him, who treated him well, people who were good at heart. They didn't deserve this. He resolved to scare the living daylights out of Sam and scare him into treating his brother better. Yes. That he would do.

"Thank you very much for your time." Hazel Eyes said the following day to the Starbucks employee who was giving him googly eyes. She had seen his "twin" just this morning. He came every single day and ordered something with wheat grass in it, and he was never very friendly. She didn't understand why he would even be looking for the grumpy man. She even made the comment, "If your older brother is dying, it may just be best that you don't find your twin, all it would do would be to darken his older brother's last days on Earth." Hazel Eyes gave a noncommittal comment and smiled and thanked her. Now, all he had to do was wait--wait for Sam to come out of his office, and kidnap the ass and take him back to South Dakota.

He reached in his pocket to pull out the keys and his cell fell out along with the keys. He looked at the phone, picked it up, and found himself thumbing through his contacts, and his brother's name highlighted on the screen.

"No. Tomorrow, I'll call; I'll tell him I'm coming back. But not today." He turned his phone off and threw it into the passenger's seat and made a bee line for the legal office.

***

"Daddy? Where's uncle Sam?" Adam asked his dad as he sat on his hospital bed and played go fish.

"I don't know. He said he had to take care of something."

"When will he come back?"

"I don't' know. He may never come back."

"Why wouldn't he come back?"

"Sometimes, there are just more important things in life."

"But you guys are brothers."

"Just because you are brothers doesn't mean you have to like one another."

"Yeah it does."

"No, it really doesn't."

"Well, if I have a brother, I'll treat him good."

"Good. I'd be very proud of you."

"You think I'll get a little brother?"

"I don't know. That's up to your mommy."

"You too."

"What?"

"You're the daddy."

"But not every kid has the same…"

"Hey there kiddo, you can't do that to your dad. He's tired. It's time for us to go home and let your daddy get some sleep." Kelly interrupted. She had disappeared with his mother some time ago to allow Dean some time with his son, and just like when they were young, she had impeccable timing.

"Moooommmm." He whined.

"Your mom's right kid. The nurses will yell and that isn't good." Adam huffed.

"Pick up your cards. And get down." Adam did what he was told and Dean smiled at Kelly and mouthed a thank you. She just nodded. Adam hugged his dad and got off the bed and followed his mother out with one final wave.

Dean allowed the smile to fade. He missed Sam, that Sam from another dimension or time line or whatever Star Trekkie thing he called it. He picked up his cell that his mother had put beside his bed, with the instructions to call her or his dad if he needed anything. He didn't need anything, and his mother had been there most of the evening, but he looked at it just the same, found himself thumbing through his contact list and looked at the one marked "Sam." And wondered if his real little brother was all right, wondered if the other Sam was all right as well. He turned off the phone, sighed and tried to get some sleep.

***

"Do you think I did the right thing Bobby? I mean…what if he's telling the truth? What if that was my brother? What if that guy that looked and sounded like Sam who sold my freaking car….wasn't really my brother?"

Bobby sat down at the table in front of Dean. "That is a possibility."

"This is where you are supposed to tell me that I made the right choice." Dean said with a hint of annoyance.

"I can't guarantee that Dean. But I don't know….I heard everything that Sam said to you. Hell, I was the one who bought the car, because well, I knew that he would regret it. I don't know."

"Me either. That guy who hugged me….he felt like my brother. But…"

"You can still hear his voice spouting all of that garbage."

"Yeah, it just bounces around in here like a bad game of Pong."

"Well, Dean. I guess we'll find out if he brings the other Sam here."

"But what if…" Dean took a drink of coffee to keep that thought to himself.

"What if what?"

"Nothin'." Dean stood and put the cup in the sink. "Gonna go work on that car for a little while." And he exited without another syllable. And he found himself with his cell in his hand with his brother's name highlighted, finger just poised above the call button, like so many other times in his life, just trying to decide if it was all right to disturb his baby brother, and like every other time, he turned the phone off and shoved it in his pocket, and did something else to keep his fingers from calling his brother.


	33. What Happened

Hazel Eyes watched the law firm for hours, and each hour that ticked by, he grew increasingly angry. Finally, at five, the man came out of the glass doors. He looked exactly how Hazel Eyes had pictured himself all of those years ago, dressed in a fancy suit, tie, and hair slicked back into a respectable style. That was the man he always thought he would be, normal, safe, someone who helps people. But this man, did none of that. He managed to find and get hired on at a law firm that was most known for screwing people out of money and chasing ambulances. Never once did Hazel Eyes envision himself working for a place like this.

But then again, his dreams of law school and being a lawyer had faded long ago, and his recent experience, while in his other world, hadn't been the best. He discovered that he was really and truly too much John Winchester's son to be able to handle snot nosed people who didn't care about others and were only in something for themselves. Hazel Eyes knew, with only spending a couple of days at the law firm that Samuel Winchester worked, that he couldn't live that life. He couldn't---wouldn't become that man.

Samuel Winchester was headed out to the car that he had just recently been able to buy. Two months ago he would have been able to buy a Lexus with all of the new bells and whistles, but now he was stuck with a five year old Pontiac. Life as he knew it had most certainly changed when the man from wherever, who could have been his twin, threw him here, and he had landed against the tires of the Impala. He had snorted, figured he fell and knocked his head, and that the encounter with the strange guy was just a result of the head knock, and got up, realized that he was next to a car, looked at the car, raised and eyebrow when recognition set in and sighed. Stupid Dean was probably skimping on his child support to pay to have the stupid car repaired to showroom shine. Then it had changed when the bearded man rushed to his side,

"Sam? Sammy? You okay?" He turned quickly to his name. A bearded man, a gruff bearded man, was standing there in front of him and Sam had absolutely no clue who he was.

"Who the hell are you?" he started. The bearded man looked hurt, sad, and he definitely smelled drunk.

"Bobby. Sam. You okay?"

Sam realized something right then that what the freak had said to him may not have been a result from a knock on the head. He looked down and saw the sweats and tee shirt he was in, his hair still dripped slightly against the fabric of his shirt, he had just had a bath, that guy had busted in, and he said that Sam didn't deserve to live the life he was leading, that he did. What in the hell? Where in the hell was he? He licked his lips quickly and looked at the man who had identified himself as Bobby, he would play along, get information and then get the hell out of here.

"Yeah. Just a bump on the head I think. I need to use your phone."

"You sure you're okay boy?"

"I'm fine Bobby. I just need to go inside and use your phone. I lost my cell. I need to call Anna tell her that I will be late for the dinner."

"You get a girlfriend?" Bobby looked absolutely flabbergasted that he would have a girlfriend. Did the man know what he looked like? He hadn't been able to beat girls off of him in college, and sometimes he hadn't, he sowed his wild oats. So much so he had funded a few abortions here and there

"I've had one for a while. We're going to get married." Not that that was stopping him from playing the field, but this guy didn't need to know that.

"Did Dean know about this?"

"Yeah. I mean, mom and dad told him. We went out to dinner together the last time I was in town. He's seen her. Who cares if Dean knows about her? I don't talk to him."

"Yeah, it would be kind of hard to talk to your brother now." Bobby hedged.

"No. Right now mom is on my ass to make things right with him."

"Sam."

"I mean, what the hell? Dean is…"

"Dead."

"No he's not. I just saw him not too long ago. And obviously," he gestured to the car "I was with him today."

"He died almost four months ago Sam."

"No. There was that car accident, but he didn't die. He should have. I mean, you wrap that ugly ass car.." he pointed to the Impala "around a tree and it should have killed him. And how could he be dead…it's back together. So obviously he took the time…"

"Sam. How much have you had to drink?"

"None. Why?"

"You are talking nonsense boy. Come on inside let's get you into some clothes and get you in bed. We'll talk about all of this in the morning."

And boy had they. This life, this new life, didn't have a Dean, didn't have a mom, didn't have a dad, and this guy, Bobby, was apparently the only semi family he had left. When he learned that, he wanted out. His skin crawled with the need to be out of there. First thing he did after learning about what was left of his life, he looked for his wallet, found twenty bucks and some credit cards with odd names on them, and he decided to sell that hunk of junk and find something decent.

When he said he was going to sell it, Bobby said he would regret it, that he would want something to remember his brother by, and Sam had replied that he'd waited a long time to be free from his brother so getting rid of this hunk of metal didn't mean anything to him. Bobby said he would buy it. Once the transaction was made, Sam was gathering his things when he heard a scuffle down stairs.

"I'm not a shapeshifter!" he heard what sounded like his brother scream. By the time Sam finally made it down the stairs he found his brother and Bobby in a hug. Dean turned and saw Sam standing just inside the kitchen and rushed to him and hugged him. Sam threw the embrace off and gave him his best disgusted look. He looked over Dean to Bobby.

"I thought you said he was dead."

"He was."

"Where are your scars Dean."

"I don't know." he said softly.

"I was finally rid of him and he comes back? Can't you just stay gone? Can't you just get the fuck out of my life and never come back? God you can't even stay dead. I just don't get it Dean. I just don't." He looked his brother up and down with a disgusted eye. "So I suppose you are going to go back to womanizing and getting girls to pay for your drugs?"

"What?"

"Oh Come on, don't play innocent. You look good again, not like something that survived a mauling anymore and now you're going to go out there again, chaise some tail and get them to pay for your house and your drug habit. Or are you going to annoy this guy too, are you taking money from him just like you do Mom and Dad? Whatever. I know you. You are the biggest waste of space I've ever known." With that Sam had disappeared, grabbed his stuff and left the men behind, gone to Kansas and started over here until he could figure out a way to get back home.

So it was with a heavy sigh that Sam Winchester unlocked the doors to the black Pontiac, shifted his brief case from one hand to the other, and was knocked out before he could get the door open.


	34. Proof

Rousing from the knock out, Sam's world slowly came back into focus. He was on the floorboards of a car that definitely wasn't his own. The carpet was worn and it smelled vaguely of smoke, and vomit. He went to move, and realized that his hands and feet were bound behind him, and he was face down and wedged between the backseat and the front seats. He started to thrash and a hand grabbed his hair from behind.

"Stop. Moving." Came the quiet lethal voice from the front seat. With each word his hair was pulled just a little more.

"Where am I?"

"You are on your way to South Dakota."

"What? Why? What do you want with me? I don't' have any money. All that I have is in my wallet."

"Get over it. I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" he asked quietly afraid of the answer.

"You." The man in the front said.

"No. No. You don't' want me. You really don't want me. I'm nobody." Sam said in a flood of words. Fear made his heart pound and perspiration bubble up and bead on the surface of his skin.

"You are right about being nobody." Hazel Eyes said from the front.

"Then you don't need to kill me."

"Oh. Killing you wouldn't punish you enough for your actions." Sam's eyes went wide and he started struggling again. "What did I say about moving?" Sam's body stilled. Scenarios flowed through his mind, everything from being tortured to being raped by the unknown driver in front of him.

"What…" Sam licked his trembling lips. "What are you going to do to me?" The car slowed and pulled to the right and it stopped. "No. No. Please." He started struggling again as soon as he heard the car door open, felt the weight in the car shift, and the when the back door opened, and Sam tried to look up, tried to see his attacker, but between the dark and the tears flowing down his face, he couldn't see.

"Shut up!" the voice demanded, and when the sniffling and pathetic crying stopped from the bound man, Hazel Eyes pulled his fist back and drove it home against the man's face knocking him out, for hopefully, the rest of the ride to Bobby's.

Dean was outside working on a truck in Bobby's yard, he'd heard from the angel who had pulled him out of hell, and he was in no mood to help the angel. He lost his brother, lost his family, and had to remember every last thing he did in hell, he wasn't in the mood for any kind of holy mission, the guy could just shove it up his ass.

Right now, the only thing that made him not feel like falling into a bottle, or finding a razor blade and sending himself back to where he belonged was working on cars, working on anything Bobby set in front of him. The movement, the concentration, the working the puzzle of rattles and misfires, and steam helped him to relax, helped him to keep the memories at bay, and that stupid Castiel, if he thought that he could just come and demand that he follow his mission because God commanded it, he was nuts. Where had God been for him all of these years? Why had he let his mother die? Why had he let his father become so obsessed with killing a demon that he died for it? If God commands it, he can just command someone else. Send him back to hell. What was it going to matter?

The sound of a functioning car startled him from his thought and made him look up. It was the car that Bobby loaned out to that guy that looked like Sam, felt more like Sam than the man he met when he got out of hell. He caught sight of Dean and he locked eyes, nodded to him, and opened the back door and hauled out a man who was bound hand and foot. Dean took the towel out of his back pocket and wiped the grease as he walked towards the bearded man.

"What do you want?" Dean asked.

"You wanted proof. Here's your proof." He said and smacked the trusted man on the face. "Wake up ass." Hazel Eyes said, and slowly, ever so slowly, eyes opened and looked up at Dean.

"What's your name?" Dean asked and crouched next to him.

"Samuel Winchester."

"How do you find our dad?"

"Call him?"

"How do you kill a demon?"

"There is no such thing as demons."

"Who am I?"

"My brother Dean."

"Why did you ask me about my scars?"

"Because the last time I saw you, your face was all ripped to shreds. The car accident." Dean looked up at the bearded man.

"What's your name?"

"To you or others?"

"Me."

"Sammy."

"What's this?" he asked and pulled down his shirt to real the tattoo. Hazel Eyes mirrored the gesture and revealed his as well.

"We got them right after Meg possessed me. We originally had them as charms…Bobby gave them to us. They ward off possession."

"What happened to me?" Dean asked quietly.

"You were killed, ripped to shreds by hell hounds, because you made a deal, a deal to save me, and you sold your soul and went to hell, for me." Hazel Eyes' voice shrank as he spoke. Dean felt himself choke up and he took a step towards his brother.

"Sammy. Oh God Sammy." He said and hugged his little brother. They each held on like two men drowning.

"What about me?" came the voice on the floor.

"You are a selfish bastard you know that?" Hazel Eyes asked as he pushed away from his brother. Crouching down on the ground next to him he whispered. "You are so lucky that my big brother is here, or I would kill you. You deserve a slow torturous death. You are mean, and you are so selfish. I'm going to clean you up and teach you some manners, that's what about you." Hazel Eyes turned to his brother. "God your knife on you?" Dean nodded and pulled it out of his boot and extended it to his brother. Hazel Eyes allowed the blade to caress the side of Sam's face before he cut the bonds to the feet and hands and hauled him up off of the ground.

"Come on you sorry son of a bitch." Hazel eyes said and pushed him forward. Dean smirked and shook his head.


	35. Returning

Dean trailed behind his brother and the bound man and found himself uneasy. His Sammy was never forceful, never bound a man, or threatened a man, unless it was absolutely necessary, and Sam never had a self loathing bone in his body so it troubled Dean greatly to watch his brother push and shove the man who wore his Sammy's face. Because it was almost like watching a private battle inside Sam's head and it stirred up his insides, Dean was the one who was supposed to bash himself, Sam was supposed to be confident and well adjusted.

Once inside, Bobby eyed Dean and he indicated that it was all right and that it had been taken care of.

"Sam?" Bobby asked. Hazel Eyes smiled and nodded. "Coffee?" he asked.

"Yeah." Dean said. "with something strong inside."

"Come on you son of a bitch. Sit down." Hazel Eyes said and manhandled the guy into the chair.

"Just let me go." Sam said.

"I'll let you go. But there are a few rules as to how you are going to be when you return."

"What?" Hazel Eyes took the chair beside Sam and starred him deep into his eyes.

"You will treat your brother with respect. You will never be a dick to him again. He deserves your respect."

"But.." Hazel Eyes backhanded the man across the face. Blood dripped from Sam's nose.

"There are no buts. Your brother deserves to be treated with kindness and respect." Sam looked at Hazel Eyes with contempt and loathing.

"You didn't know my brother before. He was a self absorbed arrogant prick—"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Hazel Eyes roared loud enough to make Dean and Bobby both jump back.

"Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone. Even ass holes like you."

"I don't know who you think you are giving me orders."

Hazel Eyes lowered himself to be eye level with the trussed man. His voice came out smooth and low. "I am the man who can snatch you out of your world and throw you some place worse. A whole lot worse. Places where unfathomable evil roams the Earth freely and is just waiting for an innocent like you. Someone who they can possess and ride, and force to watch them commit unspeakable acts, and then, when they get tired of seeing your face in the mirror, they will leave you, and your body ruined. I can send you there, and I will. That's who I think I am. So, when you get back home. You remember this. Family is the only thing that is important. Your mom, your dad, your brother, and what ever stupid woman who marries, you are the most important things in your world. Because without your family, you are nothing." Hazel Eyes' voice started to cut out and Dean put a hand on his arm.

"Sam. Sammy." Hazel Eyes turned to Dean.

"He has to understand Dean. He has to understand."

"I think he gets it." Dean nodded towards the man, who was no shaking in his chair, a wet spot had bloomed on his pants while Hazel Eyes was speaking. "He gets it Sammy." Sam stood up slowly and stepped away, his hands shaking.

"Sammy. Just send him back wherever it is you got him from. I think he gets the message."

"Why?" a thin frail ghost of a voice interrupted their conversation. Both men turned back to the one in the chair.

"Why what?" Dean asked slowly unsure if his brother was able to speak to this man without him threatening or hitting him.

"Why do you care so much about him?" he asked not even acknowledging that Dean spoke. "What has he done that is worth all of this trouble?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Dude I'd stop talking before my brother does some damage. And I don't think he would mind hurting you." Dean turned to his Sammy and turned him to face him. "Sam. Just take him back home. Let his family deal with him however they see fit. But, I think, just a guess mind you, but I think, that his Dean might be a little upset if he were gone for good." Sam starred hard at Dean as if he were afraid that if he blinked Dean would disappear. As if the spell were broken he licked his lips and blinked the tears out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're right Dean. He needs to go back home." He turned back to the man tied up in the chair. He leaned over him again.

"I'm going to send you back, but you give your brother a second chance. He's worth it." He stood up and looked at Dean again and this time he looked a little ashamed and he mumbled, "I have to check to see what is going on in that world, that Dean knows what is going on, sort of, but I don't want the others to…well…see this." Dean nodded and watched as his brother closed his eyes and concentrated.

Hazel Eyes found that reality without much trouble. He felt the vibration of that life that was Dean Winchester. It was strong in every reality in which he existed. Peeking inside that reality took less effort that going in, it was like pulling the curtains away from the window, and as he did so he was able to see that Dean was alone in his hospital room flipping aimlessly through channels, and he smiled to himself. Once he was assured that Dean was alone, he let the curtains fall back into place and he settled himself back into the world with his brother, the man who had gone to hell for him, and when he opened his eyes again, he was greeted with those worried green eyes that he worried he would never see again.

"All clear." He said and looked back at the pathetic man and grabbed him by the ropes securing his hands behind his back and hauled him to his feet. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Be careful Sammy." Dean's gruff voice whispered as Sam closed his eyes and drew on every single ounce of demonic power the Yellow Eyed Demon gave him and he threw himself into that other reality with the trussed man at his side.

Dean startled and looked over to where he heard the loud thump. "Sam?" He questioned forcing himself up a little straighter, and wincing as he moved his cut up body.

Hazel Eyes nodded and cut the bonds of the other man with the knife from his boot and looked up at Dean. "I told you that I'd brink him back."

"Thanks."

Hazel Eyes shrugged. "Family does that." He paused and then added "By the way, that story you're writing?" Dean nodded. "There is more truth to it than fiction. Give Bobby Singer a call and ask him about hunting. You'll be surprised." The man that belonged with this Dean stood and rubbed his wrists and looked at his brother in the bed, a little pale and stitches all up and down his arms.

"What happened?" Sam asked. Hazel Eyes backed up and the answer to the question was blocked out by his concentrated effort of putting himself back into Bobby Singer's kitchen. The falling sensation was followed by falling on his ass and before he could open his eyes he felt a warm firm hand on his elbow guiding him up.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me Sammy. It's me. You're home."


	36. The End

Sam nodded as he stood up. He didn't take his eyes off of his brother. It was like he was seeing him for the first time. This was his brother, and his brother knew it was him. He had suffered for months trying to figure a way out, crossed universes to get an ounce of his brother, and sought comfort in a life that had been designed to cut Dean out, to belittle him, and treat him like he was a moron. He had looked into the face of a man scared inside and out, tarnished, alone, fragile and so not his brother. His chest still ached, his muscles tense, this felt like a dream, like putting the other Sam back was just an illusion, like everything that had happened would fall away from him. Because, now standing here, in front of the man who raised him, loved him, went to hell for him, he was at a loss for words. All he wanted to do for those months alone was just talk to his brother, tell him anything, just simply talk to him and hear a response. It had been the fuel that had driven him to break his promise, to learn how to do things that his demon blood allowed, and to find another Dean, but even while he had been there he knew that it wasn't his brother, knew that he would never get that bond back, never be Samndean again. There was so much to say and so few words in which to speak them. He simply stood there and starred.

Dean felt his brother's eyes as well as saw them and the longer Sam starred the more creeped out Dean felt. And after a while he took a step back. "Go wash up, shave, something there dude. Then come back down, I'll have a cup of coffee for you, and we need to talk about this."

"But."

"Go. Get cleaned up. You look like ass." Sam continued to stare at Dean like if he quit looking at him he would disappear. Dean turned to Bobby who was hovering just inside the doorway. "Bobby will you make us some coffee?"

"Sure thing." He said and Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Come on little brother. Come on. Let's go get a shower. I'll stand right outside of the bathroom and talk to you the entire time if that will make you move and do as I ask." Sam licked his lips.

"Yeah. Okay. Okay." He nodded his head. "Shower."

"Shave."

"Yeah, shower and shave."

"And clean clothes."

"Yeah, clean clothes." Dean slowly spun his brother around and gave a gentle push towards the stairs. Sam walked up the stairs slowly and Dean pushed him into the bathroom.

"Get in there, get in the shower, I'll get you some clean clothes. I'll be right back. I'm going to leave the door cracked." Sam nodded and went into the bathroom and Dean heard the water turn on, and he went into the bedroom that they usually shared and pulled out clean clothes for his brother and then put them inside the bathroom and sat against the wall across from the bathroom.

"So, Hell wasn't exactly a picnic." He started. "Got out. You buried me Sam. Not sure why. You should have salted and burned me." he said starting his monologue. "Guess I'm grateful you didn't though." He chuckled. "But I woke up in that pine box you made for me. Scared to death. I managed to dig my way out. Got here. Bobby put me through this really interesting demon detecting tricks, and once he realized that I was me he hugged me. Yeah. Bobby Singer hugged me. One for the books. I guess when you have been in hell for four months you get special privileges. I guess though that it doesn't go towards food, he won't let me eat bacon cheese burgers for breakfast anymore, he says that I need to start sweating the cholesterol. I really hate that he remembers everything you say. Kinda creepy actually. And I really don't know what exactly you did to make that other guy, that really was a good Sammy impersonator until he opened his mouth, come here and whatever, but Sam, let me just say that I would have washed your mouth out as a kid if you had said that kind of thing to me." The door opened completely and Sam, clean, shaved and dressed came out of the bathroom. He licked his lips and began the starring contest with his brother again.

"Dude, we've got to have a discussion about this starring thing." Sam blinked and gave a small smile. "Come on, I smell coffee." Dean took lead and clomped down the stairs, and as Sam watched he realized that he missed his brother's bow legged gait.

They sat down and Bobby put a cup in front of both brothers and sat down with his own mug.

"Son, why don't you tell us what you did?" Bobby said and Dean nodded and took a sip from his mug.

"I, well, I took Ruby up on her offer." Sam could feel every single muscle in Dean's body tense. "I just wanted to get you back. I had to get you back. I couldn't stand it. You know what it feels like Dean. You know." Dean nodded. He did know exactly what his brother felt. "And come to find out, I can do this whole Star Trek alternate universe thing and I found a place where you existed and where the guy who is me over there was a real jack ass and he, well, he didn't deserve what he had. So I threw him here." Sam took a sip of the coffee and put it down, picked it back up and then just held it. "He didn't deserve to have a brother." He said quietly.

"Didn't they get along?" Dean asked gently.

"No. Not at all. His brother, your counter part, he used to be a drug addict, and he was pretty messed up could hardly walk. He had a kid. That was the same. The two of you love kids the same. That was pretty much all that was the same. Dad was so different, Mom was there and beautiful. It was so surreal, but I was determined to fit in there, determined to be the brother that he never had, to have you back some way, because I tried everything here to get you out of hell, everything. I even went back to that devil's gate and tried to bust it open. I couldn't. That was when I left. That was when I went and found another you…but.."

"But what?" Dean asked gently.

"You got anything stronger Bobby?" Bobby stood and pulled a bottle of Jack out of a cabinet and poured it inside Sam's cup. Sam took a fortifying drink and looked back at the two most important people in his life. "The demons followed me. I took care of Ruby, and Lilith went after that Dean, just another way to try and take me out. So I chased her back here, and Bobby, you watched me take her out. She's back in hell." Sam said and refused to look up for a moment.

"Who saved you?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

Dean chuckled. "God apparently."

"What?"

"Yeah, that was pretty much my take on it too. This guy named Castiel , he claims that he is an angel of the lord and that God has a purpose for me. I personally don't see it. I think the guy is a confused demon personally, but well, the magic knife didn't kill him and salt rounds didn't even phase him and the devil's trap…well…not so much."

"An angel? Really?"

"I guess." Dean said and took a swig of coffee.

"You remember what happened after…."

"After I was shredded?" Sam nodded choked. "Nah. I don't remember anything. Thank God."

"Yeah, thank God." Dean looked at Bobby then to Sam.

"Come on Sammy. You need rest. Hell so do I. it's been a long day. Come on. Let's go. I can't carry your heavy ass upstairs." Sam nodded and followed his big brother upstairs. Each got undressed and in their respective beds.

"God wants you out of the hot box. That's impressive."

"I know."

"Especially since you don't have faith." Sam said as he turned and lay on his stomach.

"Oh I have faith Sammy. I had faith that you would come back to me." And that was the truth. Sam always came back. He came back from Stanford, from the pain of their father's death, from the dead himself, and he came back to where he belonged. Right beside his real brother. Beside the man who gave him the world. Sam sighed and snuggled down into the pillow. All was right in the world, his world; he didn't need an alternate life to see him through, to save him. His brother would do just fine.

The End


End file.
